The Johto Wars
by Red Roomba
Summary: Johto is broken. Eight warlords rule over its scattered remains, and one Supreme Emperor rules over all. For his friends and family, Ethan must rise to stop the evil that has infected Johto and usurp power from those that misuse it. To do so, he must become the greatest trainer like no one ever was... This is a novelization of the GSC/HGSS games.
1. Chapter 1

"Dinner!"

Ethan was sitting in his room, on his bed, when he heard his mother shouting. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, and that meal could barely be considered meager, what with it only consisting of some bread and bacon. Bounding off his bed, he made his way downstairs. He was eighteen, considered of age of in New Bark. He was taller than most kids his age, and was slightly muscular too due to farm work.

Downstairs was small, but livable. The kitchen and dining room sat in one corner of the room, and the living room was the other. A doorway led to mother's room. Dinner was already set - another meal of rice and mareep, the staple of New Bark. The slice of mareep was smaller than his palm and flat like a cracker.

As with any family, dinner between Ethan and Lily – his mother – consisted of small talk. However, the mood over this meal had sour undertones. Another tax collector came from Blackthorn earlier in the day. New Bark was a small, sleepy town where the citizens were mostly mareep shepherds, and the appearance of tax collectors usually made for big news. However, this was the third tax collector to come in six weeks, when some years one wouldn't show for months.

"How many mareep do we have left?" Ethan asked, breaking the silence. "I didn't have a chance to check after he left."

"Two," Lily answered. "The man said it was for another excursion into the Mahogany Prefecture. More food needed for the soldiers, more wool needed for winter excursions, and yada yada. He said that this time, Clair would personally lead the troops."

Ethan scrunched his face in disgust. "It's like they're trying to take our livelihood."

Lily shrugged. "I'm sure Clair has her reasons."

"Does she? What's the point of a Supreme Emperor if there is still fighting between the prefectures? Lance's whole shtick was that he would stop the fighting." Ethan swallowed a helping of rice. "Clair only gets away with this because Lance is her brother."

"Lance was the one that stopped all the fighting in Kanto a few years back."

"Yeah, but…" Ethan ran a hand through his hair. "Clair can only march her army if Lance gives his go ahead. You know that."

"You're not wrong, but – well, other's might not take too kindly to your tone. Clair is still the Silver Prefecture's governor, whether you like it or not, and Lance is still Supreme Emperor, whether you like it or not." Lily looked over her son with love and sadness. He was old enough to be a man, yet he was very much a naïve boy. His shaggy, black hair did nothing to disprove the notion. "You haven't been speaking to Professor Elm again, have you?"

Ethan froze up. "No, you said not to. Why?" That was a lie, of course. The last time his mother found out he spoke to the professor, she made a big stink about it. Afterwards, he vowed to be more careful.

"No reason in particular, just… no. No reason."

That was the same answer she gave last time he questioned her. He decided not to follow up. Placing his dishes by the washing bucket, he moved towards the door before his mother stopped him.

"Where are you going? It's almost dark."

"Going to Lyra's house," Ethan answered. He had practiced that line for hours while in his room.

Lily frowned. "Okay then. Just be safe. And make sure the mareep have enough water before you leave!"

As she watched Ethan walked out the door, she couldn't help but see him as that small, crying child from years ago. She always had that one distinct memory of when he was six. He was playing outside, too close to the mareep pen, when he annoyed one of the pokemon so much that it shocked him. Nothing strong, of course – mareep had miserably weak lightning shocks for an electric pokemon. Rather than back down and cry, Ethan kicked back, so the mareep shocked him again. While he could be hard-headed, Lily always admired his resolve. The world was harsh, and he would need that resolve and hard-headedness to find his way.

But, he was grown up now. And that stubbornness she admired seemed to drag Ethan down directions that, as his mother, disturbed her. Lily knew that Ethan had lied to her; he was not going to Lyra's house, he couldn't stand the girl. Frankly, Lily found the girl irritating, too.

No, he was going to Elm's house at the edge of town. She could not understand why her son and fallen in with the secretive professor, but the fact remained the same that he did. She knew that her son was sneaking off to visit the man for at least a year-and-a-half by now because Ethan suddenly had an interest in Johto's political landscape, whereas previously he had none. She wasn't sure what sparked that interest – it was certainly not from her or his walk-out father; it had to be from some outside source.

Lily gut sank every time she thought about Elm; something just seemed wrong about the man. Face-to-face, he was fine; polite, well-spoken, and quick-witted. But, there always seemed to be something hiding behind the surface, as if he was always scheming.

With a sigh, Lily cleaned off her plate and placed it in the washing bucket. Ethan was his own man, now. She could only pray that he made the best decision for himself.

It was growing dark quickly outside. The sun was below the tree line, but hadn't descended across the horizon just yet. The sky was a brilliant glow of yellow and orange in twilight. The shadows from the trees extended across the house, swathing it and the lawn in near darkness.

Ethan hated lying to his mother, but sometimes he had to do what was necessary. Of course, he was not going to Lyra's house; he found the girl insufferable. But, he knew that he had to honor his mother's instructions before leaving, he went around the house to check on the mareep. He grabbed a lantern sitting next to the doorway and lit it; he would need it on his walk to the professor's house.

Around back, the shadows were more severe, contributing to the depressing sight of the mareep pen. Two months ago, they had ten mareep. After the first tax collector came, they still had another six. After the second came, they still had five. But after today, it seemed that there were only two left. Two mareep in a pen built for at least twelve. Ethan scowled; it was pathetic.

Sure enough, when he checked on the water trough, it was running low. So, dropping his lantern, he headed towards the well. He had done the trip enough times to do it in the dark. It wasn't like anything changed between trips.

But, something was different this trip. As he was drawing water, Ethan noticed a silhouetted figure not even thirty yards away. After a moment of fixating on it, he figured it to be a person crouching on the ground. Even though the silhouette was beyond the pen's fence, suspicious activity was suspicious activity, so when he drew the water he needed, Ethan left to investigate.

"Hey, what in Arceus's name are you doing?" Ethan said as he drew closer.

The silhouette jumped to its feet. At first, Ethan thought it was a girl, what with its long, flowing hair. But, then he realized it was a man not much older than him.

The man, with his hands clasped together, eyed Ethan up and down. After a moment, he turned his back to Ethan. "Mind your business, kid. Next time you could get hurt."

"It is my business – you're acting weird next to my property." Ethan held the man's gaze.

In a flash, the man was standing over Ethan. _Damn, he's fast_, he thought as the man slammed his fist into Ethan's face. The next moment, Ethan was on the ground writhing in pain. He felt like he got hit in the eye with a rock.

After struggling to his feet, Ethan brought his hands up. But, looking around, he saw that the man was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah, you better run!" He called out, but he didn't put much heart into it. His face was in serious pain. Walking over to where the stranger stood, he found a drawing on the ground. It had a series of rectangles and squares mashed together along with a couple x's and arrows around the periphery. It made no sense to Ethan, so as retribution, he mussed it up with his feet. That would show up the stranger for punching him.

Walking back to the water trough with a bucket of water in his hands, he found the two remaining mareep staring at him with their beady black eyes.

"Fat lot you assholes did back there," he muttered as he dumped the water in. The mareep meep'd in response.

Grabbing the lantern, Ethan headed back around to the front of the house. Lyra's house was to the south; of course, he wasn't going that way. Instead, he went east.

The streets of New Bark were thin, dirty trails that coughed up dust on the hot summer days and bogged down in mud during the winter rains. As it was summer, the roads were dusty, but no one had used them in a couple hours, so the dust wasn't too bad. The houses were spread out and quiet; some had farms behind, some didn't, and most were one-story shacks with overgrown yards. Ethan and his mother were on the wealthier side in New Bark. He couldn't imagine how worse off some of the denizens were holding up due to the taxes.

Everything seemed to be going wrong for New Bark this year: a winter drought and a freakish, early spring freeze crippled any potential harvests. People were already on the brink, and Clair thought she could come in and take what they couldn't afford to give up? Ethan's blood boiled at the thought. The warlords had always been demanding, but so long as people accepted their rule and minded their business, they could carry on in life. No wars; peace and quiet. That was the unwritten contract.

Something changed in the past year. The Daily Shepherd – the town's local paper – brought news of conflicts breaking out in the rest of Johto. The warlords of the Tin Prefecture and the Mahogany Prefecture started bickering over some territory between them, and somehow a small land dispute turned into a standoff. Old issues between the Cianwood and Olivine Prefectures rekindled; The Golden Prefecture decided to flex its muscle over Route 36, which greatly angered the Violet Prefecture; and, for some reason, the Silver Prefecture was taking an army into the Mahogany Prefecture.

And through it all, Supreme Emperor Lance did nothing. Ethan knew the rumors, everyone did. Lance had seized power three years ago under bizarre circumstances. Originally, Indigo Plateau was very briefly controlled by an up-and-coming warlord only known as Blue, but then he abdicated, opting to serve under Lance instead. Why Blue would willing give up power was beyond Ethan, but he heard it had something to do with a betrayal of his childhood friend, Red. The whole situation was surrounded by lies, rumors, and subterfuge. Even three years after the dust of the Kantonese Civil War settled, no one truly knew what actually happened behind the scenes. No one except Lance, Blue, and Red that was; only, the first two weren't likely to speak freely on the topic, and the third hadn't been seen since the war's end.

Yet, here in New Bark, it seemed like nothing had changed. Whispers of conflicts from the world outside the town's bubble spread from wandering mouths to curious ears, yet no one _did_ anything about it. All the townsfolk did was gossip, bitch about the state of affairs, and then carry on with their day. As if there was no drought. As if there were no tax collectors. As if they weren't ruled by uncaring leaders. It infuriated Ethan that they were willing to tolerate it! Even his own mother didn't seem to care.

"People can still feed their families. There is conflict, yes, but there's no conflict _here,_" she told him once when he broached the subject. "You'll understand the true value of peace when you're older."

Oh, he understood the value of peace. But peace was not a carrot to be dangled by leaders in exchanged for servitude; it was fickle and demanded constant attention to maintain its perseverance. It could be taken away at a moment's notice if one wasn't careful. Peace must be fought for.

At last, he reached the house he was looking for. It was massive; with three full stories, large double-doors, and two distinct wings, it was by far the largest house in New Bark. It was also at the farthest reaches of the town; any further east, and Ethan would be in the wilds of Route 29.

Despite the time of night, the building was fully lit inside. Not only was it the largest house, but it was also the only house with voltorb generators to power everything. Besides Professor Elm, there was no one else wealthy enough to afford such luxuries – even Ethan and his mother had to make due with candlelight at night!

"Professor?" Ethan said. His voice echoed down the corridors. The main entrance was marvelous; to his left and right entryways to the corresponding wings of the house. Before him stood a pair of stairways that led to a second floor balcony that overlooked the main entrance, and between the stairwells on the first floor was another door. "Professor?"

After a moment, the doors between the stairs slammed open. A slender man with short-cropped gray hair stuck his head out. The white sleeves of his lab coat drooped wide enough to fit another arm. "Yes? Who's there?" He focused his gaze on Ethan. "Oh, you're here! I was expecting you a half-hour ago. You're late. Never mind that, come with, come with."

Professor Elm disappeared behind the door, and Ethan quickly followed.

"My apologies professor. Had to do some chores for my mother."

"Don't worry about that now. I have an important task I need you to –" Elm stopped, and stared at Ethan's bruised eye, tracing a finger along it. "By Arceus, what happened here?" 

Ethan brushed the hand away. "Nothing too bad. Just a scuffle. Some stranger was poking his head around the mareep pen. You shoulda' seen the other guy, though!"

"I'm sure you gave him quite the beating," Elm said. "Can you see okay?"

Ethan nodded.

"Good. I need you in good health – I have a very important favor I need to ask of you." The professor continued to look over Ethan's eye, his face maintaining a look of indifference. "Well, I don't think you have any major bone breakage. Of course, I'm saying this without any equipment. But I think you'll be okay."

With a nod of approval, Elm turned and continued walking down the corridor. Soon, they entered a room full of lights and sleek, metal machines that blinked different colors. Gas pipes along the ceiling coughed steam. It was Professor Elm's lab, and Ethan always found himself in awe each time he stepped inside.

"You said you had a favor for me; what was it?" Ethan said.

"Just a moment on that. Let me grab some ointment for your eye." Elm walked towards a messy desk covered in vials and other glassware. To Ethan, it seemed as if the professor was always on the move, always thinking of his next project.

"What did your mother need you to do before you got here?" Elm asked.

"Huh? Oh, nothing much. Just water the mareep trough. Of course, that was also when I met the guy that gave me this." Ethan pointed to his black eye. "By the way, if anyone asks, I'm at Lyra's house." Quietly, he added: "Mother really doesn't like you, you know."

If Elm was surprised by the comment, he didn't show it. He walked back over to Ethan with the ointment. "Here, take this. It won't stop the pain, but it will reduce the bruising. Put a dollop on your finger and massage it around the bruise. Your mother is right to worry about you, you know. She is your mother after all."

"I know," Ethan said while applying the ointment

"But we are a doing something of importance, too. We are acting for the greater good. Tell me, how many mareep were in your pen before you left?"

Ethan scowled. "Only two."

"Only two," Elm repeated, nodding. "Taken for Clair's nefarious purposes, I have no doubt. And when will the next shepherd arrive from Viridian?"

"I don't know. They should've came a month ago, but they never came."

"We can't all live like this, Ethan. You know that. Each warlord thinks they can take from the others, but not leave the rest for us?" Elm said. "That is why what we are doing is right."

"Could you tell me again about the old empire?" Ethan asked.

Professor Elm smiled. "Of course I can. Before there was Supreme Emperor Lance, before there were warlords, before there prefectures, before the Reckoning, these lands were united under one flag, one entity. They called it the Land of the Rising Sun, and its rule stretched from Hoenn in the south to Sinnoh in the north. It was a time of peace and prosperity, not petty squabbling and infighting that you see nowadays."

"And we are going to bring it back to those days!"

"Exactly. One land, one government."

"For Nihon," Ethan said.

"For Nihon," Elm repeated. For the first time since Ethan saw him that night, the professor smiled. "But first, we must start with Johto."

The professor turned and headed towards the large, domed machine at the back of his lab.

"Now, onto that favor I asked of you." Elm grabbed some documents by the machine and handed them to Ethan. "I have known you for some time now, and you continue to impress with your work ethic and commitment to our cause. It is time you took the next step."

Ethan's good eye widened upon reading the document. "This is a pokemon trainer license!"

"A counterfeit, but to most it will pass as the real thing. You have proven yourself to be excellent in commanding pokemon during our lessons, and you will certainly need those skills. Now, listen carefully: your task is to locate a Mister Pokemon. That's an alias, not his real name. I received a telegram – signed by him - from Cherrygrove two days ago. In it, he says he has a package for me and some information. Find him, retrieve the package, and get whatever info he has. Then come back and deliver them to me."

Elm paused for a moment before speaking again: "Remember, time is of the essence of a revolution. The moment comes and goes in a blink of an eye, and if you miss it, it may be gone forever. You must be willing to sacrifice if you want to see Lance fall."

"Understood." Ethan did not quite understand the professor's cryptic words; surely Elm knew that he would sacrifice _anything _to overthrow Lance? As he looked at his trainer license, something caught his eye. "It says my name is Gold. Why is that?"

"That's your alias. Too dangerous to go around using your real name, especially in our line of work. Don't worry: most trainers use a stage name on their license, anyways. You won't stand out."

Ethan nodded. A sensation swelled in his chest, one of excitement and nervousness. He had rarely left New Bark, and of the times he had, it was always with a group of people.

"This task shouldn't be dangerous, but you never know. So, that leaves us with one last thing."

Elm pressed a button on the domed machine, and it snapped open. Inside sat three pokeballs.

….

A/N: Thank you for reading. Reviews and Likes are always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Lily figured she looked quite the sight. Her arms were elbow deep in mud, her face was coated in sweat, and her gray hair frizzed everywhere. Her once blue blouse had mud splatters all over the front. Now that she only had two mareep left, she decided that the shack that held them should go. Months ago, she had plans to expand the shack; it was a project she always had in the back of her mind that she was fortunate not to act on. She had anticipated purchasing more mareep from the Viridian shepherds – they had finally seemed to get back on their feet after the Kantonese Civil War, and more mareep meant she needed more cover from the winter rains.

But the Viridian shepherds never came, and then the winter rains never came, and then the shepherds still never came. Then the Silver Prefecture tax collectors came in late spring and took nearly all the mareep with them. Now she had no reason for a mareep shack; the pokemon could hide under the large oak tree in the pen for all she cared. The extra wood would be perfect for future projects, whatever they might be, so Lily decided to disassemble structure.

Grunting, Lily pushed a beam out of the dirt and tossed it on the ground, then ran a mud-covered hand over her sweat-stained face. She had been digging the foundation out around the beam for about an hour, and by Arceus, she would need a long bath after she was finished. Earlier in the morning, she removed the shack's roof. That was the easy part. Now, she had to pull the wooden beams out of the ground, a much more laborious task. A graveler or a machoke would be handy, but she was determined to do this task herself. No pokemon help for her. Her favorite bonnet – made of brown straw with a green ribbon wrapped around - kept the blistering sun off her neck, but she could still feel its relentless heat. She didn't mind however; Lily often found the most enjoyment in the simple things, such as her bonnet or work in the mareep pen.

Yes, it was the simple things that kept Lily sane. She had defined her life by two tragedies, and with the recent chaos that had descended upon New Bark, the best course of action was to stay the course. For Lily, the course was the simple things: maintain the mareep pen, cooking a nice dinner each night, spending an evening at the Loyal Sentret, and so on. Staying the course had helped her in past crises, such as her second tragedy eight years ago when Gerald had disappeared on her and Ethan. At one time, she called Gerald her husband; now, he was known only as 'that piece of shit' or 'that walk-out bastard'. Gerald had a fiery temper and stubbornness that would make a tauros blush. Lily did not know why he left, but she figured that he simply found something better.

The months after Gerald left were hard. Lily found solace in the mareep pen and, increasingly, Ethan. The boy had that same stubbornness as his father, but in a different way. Whereas Gerald was always relentlessly pursuing his next scheme or venture, Ethan seemed relentless in his call to help others. She admired him for it.

A year after Gerald left, Lily had considered marrying again. She certainly did not lack suitors, and there was one particularly attractive option: Toby Mrances. He lived on a small farm on the southern edges of New Bark. He was tanned and muscular from working outside, and he was only ten years older than she, which was on the younger side for her bachelors. More importantly, he had a graveler that could be handy.

"Why don'tcha marry me, Lily, and we can combine our farms together. You ain't have to worry about the farmwork no more," he once told her. With a smile, Toby added: "I'll whip that brat of yours in to shape, too."

Lily was close to taking his hand, closer than she would like to admit. But, something seemed wrong; Toby was handsome and had money, but over the year, she learned to appreciate the freedom she had being single. The course had been set, and Lily was not one to rock the boat, not anymore. She said no to Toby Mrances, and the man still hadn't forgiven her, even after all these years.

And despite her best efforts, Lily felt the turbulent waters rocking her boat again. Across the pen, she saw Ethan shearing one of the mareep. A knot formed in her stomach; he was up to something, she could feel it in her heart. That same aloofness and shiftiness that Gerald displayed before he disappeared was now present in her son. He had acted suspicious when he came home a few nights ago, so suspicious that Lily decided to fake going to sleep. After a few hours, she crept up the stairs to his room. Ethan was fast asleep, so she took a look around his room and found nothing. She peeked inside his backpack that was hiding underneath his bed, and the sight nearly brought her to tears.

Inside was a pokeball and a map of Cherrygrove. By Arceus, where did he get a pokeball from? It surprised her how perturbed she was by the sight of a pokeball. It reminded her deeply of her first tragedy, one so horrid that she tried to repress the memory. Occasionally, the mareep in her pen and the pidgey that flocked around town triggered depressing memories of her past life. But, that life was behind her, and the past would remain the past.

Professor Elm was behind this; there was no doubt. Lily dug furiously into the ground, her thoughts fueling her anger. She did not know why the professor had given her son a pokeball, but she knew that he did, and he was sending him off to Cherrygrove for some reason. The bastard!

She pushed another beam out of the ground. Ethan was her son, not the professor's. She did not know what drew Gerald away from her, but she knew the reason Ethan grew distant, and she would not let Professor Elm get away with it.

**(o)**

Ethan was in high spirits. After shearing the mareep, he quickly made his way to his room, whereupon he reached for his backpack that he stashed under his bed. Inside sat a pokeball. Each time he looked at it, he felt a swell of amazement that never grew old. It was such a simple thing – roughly the size of his palm with a red and white shell – but its power was palpable. Every time he held it, Ethan felt in control: over his life, over his future.

Getting a pokemon was always a dream of his – it was always the dream of every kid. Having one meant that he was no longer bound to New Bark. Traveling the routes was dangerous without a pokemon; ferals and bandits were known to roam the lawless lands between the cities. But with a pokemon, he had protection; he had freedom; he had power.

At first, Ethan was afraid that his mother would catch on. That was why he stashed his bag underneath his bed. But, his mother never said anything, and he was confident that he was in the clear. At least, for now. There would be future problems down the road, such as how he would come up with an acceptable excuse for his trip to Cherrygrove, but he was working on that. Reaching into his bag, he grabbed a transcription of the telegram Professor Elm gave him – the one from the so-called Mister Pokemon.

_~ Prof. E.,_

_Rumors swirl. Old allies turn on each other, and new ones wait in the wings. Come at once; we have much to discuss._

_Mister P. ~_

The message was as cryptic as it was short. Furthermore, it sounded urgent; it was three days since Elm gave Ethan the message, and who knows how long he had held onto it beforehand. Ethan could not delay any longer; he would have to gamble and inform his mother that he was leaving for Cherrygrove. With or without her permission, he would leave tomorrow.

There was another task Ethan wanted to attend to. He put the pokeball and message back into his backpack and he put it on. After shearing the mareep, he told his mother that he was going to town to pick up another bag of rice – a new shipment had arrived from Blackthorn yesterday. He was going to do that, but first he would make his way east to the Kanjo River.

With a hop to his step, he left the house and travelled down the road. The heat was blistering, making the dust on the road that much more miserable. His house was near the eastern edge of New Bark, so he only passed a couple more houses before arriving at a grove of trees that marked the town's boundary. After a short walk, the canopy opened up to a small field and the greenish-blue waters of the Kanjo River.

A slight breeze blew off the water, and when it passed, Ethan clicked open the pokeball, releasing a red miasma. He crinkled his nose at the smell; a stench like that of sulfiur always seemed to waft from a pokeball releasing its contents, and he had yet to grow accustomed to it.

The form coalesced into a creature about as tall as Ethan's knee with black fur on its back and tan fur on its belly. The pokemon took a second to gather its bearings, sniffing and pawing the ground. Then, the quilava noticed Ethan, and its back erupted into fire.

Ethan remained calm, speaking in a soft voice. He was far from an expert trainer, but Elm had taught in some aspects of training – he was a pokemon professor after all.

Despite the flames, the quilava remained calm while slowly approaching Ethan. He and the pokemon had already been acquainted a couple of times over the past three days, which gave Ethan enough to learn a little bit about his pokemon. For starters, the quilava was a male, and he really liked burnt oran berries as snacks.

When the quilava drew close, his flames died down. The pokemon sniffed Ethan's hand, then curled up by his leg.

"I'll have to train some fight into you," Ethan said as he scratched behind the quilava's ears. He would also need a name; when he chose the quilava, Elm said his name was Doresey. "But that name won't do. It's not tough enough."

"Okay, let's start!" Ethan jumped up, and Doresey followed. Opening the bag, he pulled out a couple sticks that he grabbed along the way. The quilava looked on attentively.

Ethan turned and chucked the stick over the river, and then whistled in two quick bursts. Doresey jumped up, his back flames exploding to life, and shot a fireball at the stick. It missed wide right.

Frowning, Ethan chucked another and whistled twice. Doresey missed high. The next one missed high again, and the fourth missed low.

"Well, at least you can follow directions," Ethan said. He grabbed a couple oran berries from his bag and dropped them on the ground. Doresey coughed some embers on them, burning them, then devoured berries. "We'll work on the aim later."

Doresey seemed too interested in his berries to listen. Suddenly, his ears perked, and the quilava jumped up sniffing the air. His ears lowered, and he started hissing. Smoke floated from the pokemon's mouth.

Footsteps came from the treeline. Ethan tried to remain calm, but his heart beat a mile a minute. His mind immediately jumped to the worst possible outcome: could it be his mother coming out of the trees?

But, it wasn't. A blue furball rolled from behind a tree and stopped on its haunches. It looked up, spotted the quilava and Ethan, and smiled, chirping gleefully. Shortly after, a woman with brown hair tied into pigtails followed. She looked at Doresey, then at Ethan, the back at Doresey. Ethan groaned in exasperation.

"Well, this is unexpected," she said.

"What are you doing here, Lyra?"

Lyra Otkin was not someone Ethan called a friend. More of an acquaintance at best. They had known each other since they were born, having frequently attended the same classes in school. For whatever reason, there was a magnetism between them, but one that sparked argumentation rather than friendship. To Ethan, it was her constant needling and pushing into one's business that infuriated him. At one point, he accused the school board of directly conspiring against him since they shared so many classes. The charge was not received seriously by the board, and Ethan was laughed out of the room. And then there was that situation at the graduation party two years ago. Both Ethan and Lyra were quite drunk, as was expected. A conversation started between them, and that conversation broke into an argument about – well, about something; Ethan was too browned out to remember. One thing led to another, and Ethan and Lyra started…

Ethan shook his head violently. No, no need to recall _that_ memory. Not with Lyra standing right there.

"What are _you_ doing here, Ethan?" Lyra retorted, standing with her hands on her hips, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Training my pokemon," Ethan said, sighing. "Yes, Doresey is my pokemon. What are you doing here?"

Lyra laughed. "Doresey? Its name his Doresey?" She shook her head. "You should think of a new name. Anyways, I'm just taking a walk. Azure likes to play in the river." The marill yipped in response and jumped into the water.

The two stared at each other, each waiting other to speak. Finally, Ethan said: "Okay. Stop staring and ask."

Lyra exhaled, feigning relief. "Okay. Where to start, where to start… Oh! Why did you get a pokemon?"

"I wanted to be a trainer."

"Okay." Lyra stroked her chin in thought, noticeably unsatisfied by the answer. "Who gave it to you?"

"Not answering that."

"That's fine, I already know the answer." Lyra mouthed 'Elm', then smirked. "Does Lily know?"

Ethan frowned. "Not yet, and you won't be the one to tell her."

Lyra put her hands up. "Whoa now, I wasn't going to snitch! Although, that doesn't mean I won't hold it against you!" She walked over to Ethan and sat down on a nearby rock. "But seriously, your ma' hates pokemon, besides _maybe _those mareep of yours. Everyone knows that. Why did Elm give you one?"

"Elm never gave me anything," Ethan said through gritted teeth.

"_Sure_." Lyra drawled out the word as much as possible, making sure to sound as sarcastic as she could muster.

"Alright, I've had enough of this crap." Ethan grabbed Doresey's pokeball and aimed it at the quilava. But before he could press the recall button, Lyra was in front of him, her hand blocking the centerpiece.

"Hold on, hold on." Lyra looked more serious now. "Like I said: I ain't a snitch. I just wanna know…" She looked side-to-side, as if she were afraid of what she was going to say. "Are you actually planning to leave New Bark?"

Ethan paused a moment, weighing his answer. He was going to tell her about going to Cherrygrove, but he decided against it. "I don't know yet."

Before Ethan could walk away, Lyra grabbed his wrist. "New Bark's a hick town with nothing going for it. You know that as much as I do." Lyra sighed.

"Okay. And?" Ethan said, shaking his arm free.

"And? When you leave, take me with you. Please?" Lyra stepped back. "I don't need to follow you forever. Just 'till I get my feet set. I've always wanted to see the Olivine Lighthouse."

"And why should I do that?"

"You know as much as me about surviving in the wilds. Which is to say, nothing at all." Lyra pointed a finger at Ethan. "Two people in the wilds are better than one. You better think about it. I'm holding you to it."

"And what do you know about surviving in the wilds?"

"Probably more than you!"

"Oh yeah? Based on what?"

"Based on – aah! I don't know. Why do you have to be such an ass?"

Ethan put his hands up, shaking his head. This was already halfway towards an argument, and he had no desire to have one. Too much was on his mind already. "Fine, sure. You can come along. And remember: this conversation never happened!"

Lyra gave a thumbs up, then turned her attention to Azure, who was spouting water guns from the river. Ethan walked away and into the grove of trees, Doresey following closely behind. Abruptly, Ethan stopped and recalled the quilava into his pokeball. Then, he stuffed it into his backpack. There was no chance in hell he would take her along. They'd probably start arguing over some tauros shit five minutes in.

But, she had made a good point: surviving with two people in the wilds was better than going it alone. Ethan's knowledge of roughing it was somewhat inadequate. It was just not a part of Elm's teachings. Sure, he could build a campfire and set a tent, but those things were easy. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to have a companion, if only to watch his back. But it wouldn't be Lyra, no way. Perhaps if he could find someone else in town, someone that was making their way to Cherrygrove…

His mind full of thoughts and plans, Ethan headed south down the dusty road to main street.

**(o)**

Silver had visited many of the coastal cities of Johto; by far, Goldenrod was his favorite. The sheer opulence of the city was astounding, and the rediscovered radio technology made the newly constructed radio tower that much more spectacular. Much to his surprise, radio hadn't quite caught on in the other prefectures, as most still relied on telegram for communications. Olivine was nice too, especially its lighthouse, but Silver found the smell that pervaded the city too fishy for his liking. Cherrygrove was simply uninspiring.

By far, New Bark was the most backwater town he had visited, and there were a lot of tiny farming villages between the major cities. The only thing that separated it from those nothing farming towns were the biannual trips from the Viridian shepherds. What started as a general store, post office, and saloon grew into hotels and more saloons. Soon after, there was a main street with some stores – all selling clothes of mareep wool, of course. And yet, New Bark never let go of that hick town image; it was very much sleepy. The fact that it was a part of the Silver Prefecture, which was ruled from Blackthorn over 50 miles north, and not a part of the Violet Prefecture, which was ruled from Violet City about 30 miles away, was a testament to the fact that nothing ever happened there.

And it was here, in this hick town, that Silver found himself. It wasn't by accident; amidst the dusty roads and mareep shit, a very special person had set up shop in New Bark.

The famous Professor Elm.

New Bark could have been the perfect place for the pokemon professor to hide in secret, but he couldn't help but draw attention to himself. Despite the man's elusive nature, he had a surprising penchant for flamboyance. The professor's laboratory was larger than any other building, with an ostentatious three stories and nearly twice as wide as the next largest building in New Bark – a saloon called the Mareep's Milk.

Silver lazed underneath a tree across the road, hiding from the sun. His red hair was tied in a top knot so that the wind – what little there was – wouldn't blow it in his face. From the shade, he watched closely as the professor's aides walked in and out of the laboratory. There weren't many of them; it was usually one of the same three. One was a man with jet black hair wearing glasses. He seemed in a hurry when he left, and he headed east towards the main street. He hadn't yet returned. Another was a woman also with jet black hair, and she seemed more deliberate. She went behind the laboratory and returned almost an hour later with considerable more dust on her white lab coat. The third was an older man with a brown beard. He was only outside for half a minute as he released a pidgey into the air which promptly flew away. Silver wasn't certain from his distance, but he believed he saw a letter tied to the pidgey's leg.

Even though Silver seemed to be casually lounging in the shade, his anger welled greatly. Whenever he had a tantrum as a child, his mother – Yveltal rest her soul – frequently commented that his anger was just like his father's. Subtle to imperceptible eyes, but it was quick to swell and would explode in an instant. In fact, it was father's relationship with the professor that brought Silver here. He had met Elm once, but that was a long time ago when Silver was a child and went by another name.

The flood of memories of his mother and father swamped Silver, further darkening his temper. That was to be expected; the past was only anger and resentment. But there was always a chance for a new beginnings. But to do so, Silver must briefly face his past again, if only a seemingly minor part of it. Such was the paradox of life.

Silver stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then, he turned down the dusty road towards the main street. There, he had rented a small room above the Loyal Sentret. He had much to plan for; as soon as the moment presented itself, his new beginning would start.

**(o)**

Ethan rushed back home as fast as he could, but the bag of rice on his shoulder was heavy. By the time he reached the front door, he had completely sweated through his shirt. It wasn't the bag of rice that made him rush; it was only mid-afternoon, and his mother wouldn't start cooking dinner for another few hours.

One of Professor Elm's aides had bumped into him as he walked down the main street. His jet black hair was messy, not combed as it usually was, and his wide-rimmed glasses sat loosely on his nose. The man always seemed in a rush. His name was Aidan, and today he seemed in more of a rush than usual.

"Elm doesn't know what's taking you so long to get moving, but he demands that you head to Cherrygrove now," Aidan said. He wheezed as he spoke.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," Ethan said, laying a hand on Aidan's shoulder. "I'm planning on heading over tomorrow. There's a caravan that's leaving for Cherrygrove; I plan on joining them." He had run into the caravan driver while purchasing the rice. The driver was a balding, fat man from the west named Dontin, and even better: there were three others travelling alongside. He would be perfectly safe on the trip there.

Aidan brushed Ethan's hand away. "What, you waiting for your mother's permission or something? Perhaps you shouldn't be working with us if it takes you this long to get moving."

A moment of silence passed, and then Aidan disappeared behind some buildings. That interaction cycled through Ethan's mind as he walked through town. He was moving too slow; if he messed up this opportunity, would Professor Elm give him another? "The moment comes and goes in a blink of an eye, and if you miss it, it may be gone forever," Elm had said. Ethan shivered at the thought of messing up, so he moved with a fire in his step.

He also had a brief interaction with Toby Mrances on his way back home. It wasn't much; the man gave him the stink eye as Ethan walked by. He always gave Ethan the stink eye whenever they crossed paths, an occurrence that Ethan still couldn't understand the reason behind.

As he walked through the front door of home, he noticed his mother wasn't inside. Perhaps she was still outside, tending to mareep shack. Or, what was left of it, at least. She had spent all morning disassembling it he recalled as he dropped the bag of rice on the table and went upstairs to his room.

Ethan spent the next few hours lying on his bed thinking. He had Doresey's pokeball a few feet away – he could take it with him outside, show it to his mother, and say, "This is real, and this is how things are going to be." And that would be that. He was sure his mother would argue and beg, but at least he would air his intentions. Better to rip the bandage off quickly rather than slowly peel it away, and all that.

But, he found that he couldn't remove himself from his bed. It should be so simple; Cherrygrove was only a two day trip west. He wouldn't even be gone that long or be that far from home! But the thought of facing his mother paralyzed him.

After some time, he heard a door slam shut downstairs. Ethan looked outside; it was dark. How long had he sat in bed thinking? He walked downstairs to find his mother standing in the doorway, wiping her boots on the entrance mat, all muddy and sweaty from outside.

"Do me a favor dear and fix up dinner for me. I need to wash myself." She walked into her bedroom and closed the door.

Obliging, Ethan lit the flame on the stovetop and started boiling the water for the rice. Separately, he took out the last of the salted mareep chops from the cupboard, and started cooking them on the stovetop next to the rice. And as he prepared dinner, he thought about what he would say when his mother sat down. He thought about how he would breach the topic as rice cooked and the chops sizzled.

And then Lily walked out from her bedroom, her gray hair dripping water. She smiled as she watched her son prepare dinner. "Thank you, Ethan," She said as she sat down. "It has been a long day."

Ethan's mind froze. _Do it,_ he thought to himself. _Say it now! Get it over with!_ Instead, he said: "It's been a long day for me, too."

They ate dinner, and Ethan managed to make small talk during the meal despite the turmoil raging in his head. At one point, concern etched his mother's face. "Is something wrong, Ethan?" Lily asked.

It was another opening for him to announce his plans, and yet he couldn't force himself to say what needed to be said. "No, I'm just tired is all," he said, shaking his head.

Soon after, dinner was finished and the table was cleared and they each went to their rooms. Ethan laid in his bed, sleep unable to come, feeling a failure. Why was it so hard for him to speak honestly? He told Lyra and Aiden his intentions with no issue, and yet, like a coward, he couldn't face his own mother.

He had to admit that her life had been tough, and she tried her hardest to make Ethan's life easier. But, he found the pull of adventure alluring – even more, the fate of all of Johto, and even all of Nihon, possibly rested in his hands. _I am leaving for a good reason_, he reminded himself. _For the betterment of the world_. Yet, acting on it would crush his mother. Then again, Ethan didn't want to be smothered by his mother forever, regardless of her best intentions.

Damn it all, those circular thoughts were of no help. He needed to make a decision, and after a long sleepless night full of tossing and turning, Ethan knew what he must do.

It was the right choice, yet it still left a sinking feeling in his stomach.

It was still dark out when Ethan rose from his bed and grabbed his bags. He packed a spare shirt, pants, underwear, and socks, and then quietly walked downstairs and out the front door. Once outside, he paused a moment, listening if anything stirred inside the house. After a minute, he headed down the street towards town, heart full of sadness. The moon was low in the sky, but still shone brightly. He didn't understand why now, of all times, leaving home hurt so much. He had snuck out at night multiple times, usually to play with friends when he was younger and now to visit Professor Elm. But this time was different. Now it was real; he was really leaving home to actually go somewhere else. He had never done that before, not without his mother. "I'll be home soon, mother," Ethan whispered. "Please forgive me."

Only the rustling of leaves in the wind answered him.

...

A/N: I just realized that the previous version of this chapter had some weird formatting glitch. Sorry for all of you that had to read it like that. My bad!

A/N 2: I made some grammatical fixes.

A/N 3: Just some more fixes.


	3. Chapter 3

The caravan passed the New Bark gate – a lone guard slept within the gatehouse – and continued on to Route 29. The morning was not far away. Even at that early time, the pink glow of the morning sun crept above the tree line to the east. But, they were heading west, into darkness and towards Cherrygrove.

They had a small group of only five people. Ethan sat in the back of the stagecoach along with the cargo and the brown-haired twins, Gulin and Kalin. Their older brother, Dontin, was a fat, balding man, and he was in the front of the stagecoach, steering. His donphan led the stagecoach. The fifth member was riding ahead of the caravan, scouting the road to make sure it was safe.

"You couldn't have got me outta that shit town faster than a juiced-up pikachu," Dontin said. He had been bitching to his brothers about New Bark ever since Ethan met up with them. Apparently, based on what he had heard, the three brothers went to New Bark trying to sell some trinkets and candies some other merchant had sold to them in Violet City. Clearly, they didn't know their clientele well because they left without selling a thing. "No wonder Gold here was trying to leave so quick."

Gulin and KalIn both laughed. It took Ethan a moment to remember that Dontin was talking about him. When he introduced himself to the caravan goers, he used the name on his trainer card. _Gold,_ he reminded himself. _I'm Gold now. _The change was jarring, but it was a change he would need to get used to quickly lest he break his cover.

"Did'ya hear me, Gold? Is that why you left?"

Ethan looked up. Dontin was looking over his shoulder, waiting for an answer. Gulin and Kalin stared at him expectantly, too. "Yeah, just wanted to leave," Ethan muttered. Briefly, thoughts of his mother flashed in his mind, but he quickly pushed those away.

The sun's heat could already be felt even as it barely sat above the treeline. Its rays showered the grasses and trees in gold, and for a moment, the sickly plant life looked beautiful. But, as the sun continued to climb, the grasses returned to their brown color. This late into summer, they should have been a brilliant green, but the drought had badly affected the area. The leaves on the trees still had some green left, though. Looking back, towards New Bark, Ethan saw plumes of dust kicked up by the stagecoach.

By late morning, Dontin stopped the stagecoach by a dried riverbed. His donphan pawed the ground looking for water, but to no avail. "There he is," Dontin said, pointing toward some trees. A large figure emerged in the distance, quickly crossing the distance between it and the caravan, a cloud of dust trailing it.

"He sure is moving fast," Gulin and Kalin said simultaneously. Dontin nodded in agreement, a look of worry on his face.

Ethan agreed. Even in the morning light, the figure seemed exceptionally bright. Gradually, as the distance closed, the figure took proportion. Half a minute later, the rider was right next to them. He sat tall on a rapidash that glowed a brilliant orange. Amazingly, the flames flaring from the rapidash's neck seemed to dance around the rider. He had a thick, white mustache, and his gray hair was tied in a ponytail. A rifle sat across his lap.

"Everything clear ahead, Hajime?" Dontin asked.

"I en't sure. I passed another rider 'bout a couple miles away. He turned 'round and left 'fore I could catch up to him. That's when I turned 'round too."

Dontin frowned. "Did you catch a look at him? You think he's a bandit?"

Hajime shook his head. "No. He en't anything of that kind, I think. Meaner. Stronger-lookin'."

Dontin's frown deepened. Gulin and Kalin copied their brother.

"I oughta take a closer look," Hajime continued. "Make sure nothing's up with them. That man gave me the damndest feeling."

"Take the kid with you," Dontin said, pointing his thumb at Ethan. "Never too early for him to earn his keep."

"What say you, Gold? You up for some scoutin'?" Hajime asked.

Eagerly, Ethan nodded. So far, the start to his grand adventure was rather dull. The three brothers made for boring company, and at times, Gulin and Kalin were downright weird.

Hajime extended his hand, and Ethan nearly took it, but then pulled his back. He looked warily at the rapidash, its flames dancing in the sun.

"Rose won't hurt you," the older man said, a comforting smile on his face. "'Least, she won't hurt you so long as I'm riding, too."

With trepidation, Ethan grabbed Hajime's hand and pulled himself onto the back of the pokemon. Much to his surprise, the flames seemed to dance around his legs. He didn't feel the heat at all.

"Told ya she won't hurt," Hajime said. "Pokemon can be amazin' like that, the control they have over their bodies." He kicked Rose's side, and the rapidash trotted off.

Rose plodded along at a pleasant pace, much to Ethan's relief. Truth be told, this was his first time riding a pokemon. He wrapped his arms tightly around Hajime in fear that he would otherwise fall. He shut his eyes in fear of… something. It just felt right, comforting.

"Relax, kid."

Ethan opened his eyes to find Hajime looking right back at him.

"I said relax," Hajime said with a laugh. "Ridin's easier with yer eyes open."

"Very funny," Ethan muttered. He bounced to the steady trot, his stomach growing uneasy and his legs growing sore.

"You en't ever rode a pokemon before, have you?" Hajime asked.

Ethan shook his head. He would have spoken, but he was afraid that he might vomit should he open his mouth.

"Yep. I 'member ridin' my first pokemon. 'Twas actually Rose, here! Back when she was a ponyta, that was." Hajime leaned his head back, closing his eyes and smiling at the memories. "That was - I don't know – thirty, forty years ago?"

Ethan swallowed. The nausea passed. "Wow, she's that old?"

"Never ask a lady to her face how old she is." Hajime massaged Rose's neck. "Believe you me, it's good for yer' health."

The rapidash whinnied in response.

They stayed on the narrow dirt path for a couple minutes before bearing right into grass so tall that it reached Rose's knees. The tips of the grass burned slightly as the rapidash passed over them. Hajime noticed this and muttered under his breath, a look of concern crossing his face. After another minute, he pulled Rose back onto the dirt path. He jumped off the rapidash and helped Ethan off. Ethan walked slowly around the path, stretching his legs. He couldn't believe how sore they were! It seemed that they only rode for ten minutes, at most.

"Yep, feels good to stretch the legs after a ride, don't it?" Hajime recalled Rose back into her pokeball, then slung his rifle over his shoulder. He retrieved a second pokeball from his belt. "Well, yer' in luck: we'll be walkin' the rest of the way. I'd ride Rose out there but…" He gestured to the brown grass with his arm. "It's so dern dry out here that I'm 'fraid a wayward spark from Rose'll light this whole place up."

The grasses grew so high that they tickled Ethan's nose, and some stood even taller. It was too easy to lose sight of the older man, Ethan stayed only a step behind Hajime. _He's got a pokeball out,_ Ethan thought. He grabbed Doresey's pokeball and gripped it tight.

Somehow, Hajime noticed this. He was looking forward, but seemed to turn his head at the exact moment Ethan reached for his pokeball. "You said you gotta quilava, right?"

Ethan nodded.

"Keep it inside. If Rose can light up this place, so can your 'mon." The older man paused for a moment. "On second thought, keep that pokeball on hand. But don't open it 'less I tell you. We may need your quilava."

The grasses were so dry and brittle that their stalks cracked and crumpled as Hajime and Ethan walked by. The sun was already high in the sky; it was going to be another hot day. They crossed into a grove of trees that provided some nice relief from the heat. Overhead, some pidgey flocked among the branches. Then, a fearow flew in and howled in anger, scaring the pidgey off. After a few minutes of enjoying the shade – and by Arceus, did they enjoy those precious moments out of the hot sun - Ethan and Hajime left the trees and found themselves back in the tall grasses and in the heat. Shortly after, as they scurried up a hill, they started hearing voices in the distance. Hajime stopped. Ethan did as well, trying to hear what the voices were saying, but they were too far away to make out the words.

"Walk slowly, and follow me," Hajime said. "Do as I say, when I say. Most important: don't speak."

The tall grasses slowly gave way to a rocky outcrop. At the top of the outcrop was a grouping of tents and two men in a heated, but quiet, argument. Both were muscular and tanned presumably from long hours spent outside. The green-haired man seemed to be dictating the conversation's course; he waved his arms wildly, pointing in various directions, while the second man – taller, with a shaved head – stood still listening.

"Him right there," Hajime said, pointing toward the green-haired man. "He's the one I saw. Looked me right in the eyes, then scampered back up this hill here."

"He looks pretty mean," Ethan said. If the green-haired man was trying to act the part of a gangster, he certainly had the look down. He was dressed in a black overcoat in spite of the heat with a bandolier wrapped across his chest. Three pokeballs hung off the bandolier. Aside from the shocking green hair, the man also had a deep scar on his left cheek. "What do you think they're doing out here?"

"Damned if I know." Hajime spread his arms towards the tents. "Looks like they're having a party though."

The two continued their approach upwards towards the rocky outcrop. Abruptly, the green-haired man stopped gesticulating and turned to face Ethan and Hajime. He grabbed a pokeball from his belt.

"You folks walk as loud as rhydon." The green-haired man held the pokeball in an outstretched arm, but he didn't release its content yet. The taller man walked to his partner's side and retrieved his own pokeball. "What the hell are you doing up here?"

"Hold yer' ponytas, we en't enemies," Hajime responded.

"Hard to believe you with a pokeball and rifle in both hands," the green-haired man retorted. The tall man nodded in agreement. "A smart man might think it a threat."

"If I was threatenin' y'all, my pokemon would be out and the rifle would be aimed at yer' face, believe you me. But, I see yer' point." Hajime placed his pokeball back on his belt and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He motioned for Ethan to put his pokeball away too, which he did. "Let us start over. My name's Hajime. This here's my partner, Gold. We saw y'all a while back from the road. We just wanted to introduce ourselves. Figure we show some proper roadside manners with those we share the road with."

The green-haired man stepped forward, looking over Hajime and Ethan. After a moment, he nodded his head, muttering to himself, and placed his pokeball away. "The fuck kind of hillbilly accent is that, old man?"

"Solaceon, from up north."

"Never heard of it."

"It's way, way up north." Hajime crossed his arms. "Beg yer' pardon, but I don't believe I caught you or yer' partner's name."

"That's none of your concern, _Hajime_." The green-haired man winked. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. "But since you're that curious, my friends and I are having a nice picnic in the country. Thinking about visiting the surrounding area. You ever heard of a town called New Bark?"

Upon hearing that, Ethan's stomach sunk. Something felt wrong, very wrong, with the short man. He had a sinister demeanor to him. _And he said he had friends_, he thought. _Are there more of them besides the two standing here?_ Ethan couldn't see any, but now that he noticed, there were a lot of tents behind the two men. Definitely more than necessary for _only_ two people.

"Yeah, just came from there," Hajime said. "It's east a ways. Not far from here."

The green-haired man blew a smoke ring. "Heard there was some kind of pokemon lab there. That true?"

"En't sure," Hajime said. "We weren't there for long."

The green-haired man blew another cloud of smoke as he leered at Hajime. "Thanks. Appreciate the info," he said after a few seconds. He waved his hand. "Now git'. This is our campsite, and we ain't sharing."

"I figured," Hajime said, his voice flat. "Come on, let's go Gold." Hajime waved goodbye to the two men. Neither returned the gesture.

That sinking feeling in Ethan's stomach was near full-on panic by the time they reached the copse beneath the outcrop. New Bark? And, they knew of Professor Elm's pokemon lab? Elm was once a famous across the various Regions, that much Ethan knew, but apparently he wanted a quieter life, so he relocated to the sleepy town of New Bark. It was well off the beaten path, somewhere where he could operate in peace. And also not draw too much attention to his ulterior priorities. That was the story told to Ethan, at least. If they were looking for a pokemon lab in New Bark, then that meant they were looking specifically for Professor Elm. There could be no other reason. The only question was: why did that green-haired man need the professor?

Once they cleared the trees and back into the tall grass, Ethan couldn't contain his concern any longer. "Those guys seemed pretty… strange, let's say. Do you think they'll be a problem?" A dumb question, for sure; Ethan damn knew that they were a problem, he was just hoping that Hajime could persuade him that they weren't as big of a problem as he thought.

"Oh, they'll be a dern problem, that's fer' sure. But, they won't be _our_ problem. We should be in the clear on the way to Cherrygrove."

The answer did nothing to comfort Ethan. "Do you think it was smart to just… you know, confront them like that? They seemed pretty nasty."

"Gold, this en't my first rodeo. I've spent a lotta time in the wilds. I know how to deal with pokemon and people. Sometimes, the best thing is to confront the problem head on. We'll be fine." Hajime stopped, then looked at Ethan. Concern filled the older man's face, as if he could read the young trainer's mind. "Yer' from New Bark, en't you?"

"What do you mean?" Ethan's answer was strained with grief.

"I mean, you were born there, right? You seemed pretty anxious back there when they mentioned New Bark."

Ethan hesitated a moment. His hometown wasn't something he divulged to Hajime or Dontin and his brothers. He was hoping he could keep his personal information private, but he saw no reason to hold back now. He nodded his head. "Yeah, I was born there," he said as he kicked a rock. It rolled down the hill and into some shrubs. "And yes, I am worried that they said they were heading there. They seem like bad news."

"You thinkin' of goin' back home?" Hajime asked.

"Yes." Ethan surprised himself by the suddenness and sincerity of his answer. In his heart, he knew it to be true; he already started missing home the second he left, and hearing the green-haired man talk of New Bark helped nothing. He walked over to a tree and put his arm out, leaning against the trunk. "It's pathetic, isn't it? It feels wrong – I've been gone for, like, half a day – but, it's true. I don't know, something feels wrong."

"You probably just miss home, and there en't nothing wrong with that. The homesickness gets particularly bad when you hear some creeps talk 'bout it, believe you me. Come, let's grab a seat." They both sat down. Hajime continued. "Listen, Gold: yer' a rookie trainer –"

"I'm not a rookie!"

Hajime broke out into raucous laughter. "Oh, that's rich Gold! You might be able to fool Dontin and his idiot brothers, but not me. I look at you and see 'rookie' written all over ya'! You were dern scared to ride Rose fer' cryin' out loud!"

Ethan blushed, but made no effort to conceal his embarrassment. Hajime had seen clearly through his ruse. He was able to convince Dontin and his brothers that he was a veteran trainer – he even released his quilava to prove it. Ethan said that he could act as a trainer guard alongside Hajime. That was the only way Dontin would let him join the caravan. "Yeah, you found me out, Hajime. Good job. What of it?"

"Nuthin' of it. I know what yer' goin' through. Hell, I did the same dern thing when I ran from home. Was probably 'bout yer' age, too." Hajime shrugged. "We were all beginners at some point. No shame in hidin' it."

Ethan sighed and dropped his head into his arms. "I'm just – I'm worried. That man mentioned New Bark, and – well… I'm just worried is all."

"I en't one to pry, Gold. I'm sure you had yer' reasons for leavin'. When I left Solaceon all those years ago, I never looked back." Hajime stood up and extended his arm, which Ethan graciously took. The older man lifted Ethan to his feet. "People talk all the time. New Bark was in good hands when you left, and it'll still be that way. My advice Gold: keep lookin' forward. You left fer' a reason, and I think you should remember that."

Thoughts of Professor Elm flashed through Ethan's mind. He had a mission – an important mission, and he couldn't forget that. Ethan was sure that the professor could handle whatever that green-haired man had for him. By Arceus, there was no guarantee that the green-haired man had any ill intentions anyway! The professor probably had lots of strangers of all stripes make sudden appearances every now and then.

Still, something seemed wrong. Ethan pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He would have to try his hardest to not let himself get distracted will paranoid notions.

"Let's keep walkin' Gold. I figure Dontin's whinin' to those idiots right 'bout now, wonderin' where we are," Hajime said. "You'll be homesick for a few days; en't nuthin' you can do 'bout that. But that feeling will pass, and if you need help, I'll be right here."

They continued walking through the trees, through the tall grass, and back onto the dusty road. After a half-hour, they spotted Dontin and his brothers up ahead. The donphan was unhooked from the stagecoach and was grazing on the grasses by the riverbank.

"I had a thought, Gold," Hajime said. "You ever catch a pokemon before?"

Ethan considered lying, but he decided against it. The older man had already called him out as a rookie, and there was no reason to continue hiding behind untruths. "No, never."

Hajime smiled. "Well, I think I know what we'll be doin' later."

…

When the sun set below the trees, the caravan pulled to the side of the dusty road, settling in a particularly barren, stony spot among the tall grasses. They lit no fire that night; Hajime's concern for the area's dryness was still on the forefront of his mind. The white-haired man didn't even let Rose out of her pokeball to graze.

Ethan, however, insisted that Doresey should come out and train, and Hajime reluctantly agreed. He had one rule: the quilava could not, under any circumstance, light his back flames. Ethan agreed, and relayed the information to Doresey upon the pokemon's release. The quilava only looked in confusion at his trainer's babbling, and slowly his back flames grew. Upon seeing this, Ethan and Hajime exploded in nervous shouts and wild gestures, and Doresey responded by extinguishing his flames in shock. Only then did the pokemon understand the humans' concerns, and he kept his back flames unlit.

The rest of the caravan was sprawled out around the barren spot. Gulin and Kalin were sleeping in a particularly uncomfortable position against a stagecoach wheel, their heads so close together that they could've been kissing. Dontin was passed out on his sleeping mat, and his donphan was next to him rolled in a ball, also presumably sleeping. After the near fiasco with Doresey's back flames, Hajime disappeared into the tall grasses. He said that he was going to take a look around their perimeter, make sure that nothing strange was going on. The three brothers assumed it was a simple standard procedure, so they proceeded to fall asleep. Ethan, on the other hand, was positive that Hajime wanted to make sure those thugs they saw earlier weren't stalking them. The very thought of them made him shiver. In particular,

Neither Ethan nor Doresey were tired. The young trainer was still energized from the day's excitement, both its good and bad. He tried his hardest to push aside the bad, especially the green-haired man and his cruel, leering eyes. The very fact that he was spending his first night outside, on his own, was reason enough to focus on the good. The quilava just seemed happy to be outside his pokeball. Ethan decided that the best use of their time was to train, so they both crossed the tall grasses and made their way to the road. There wasn't much they could do – Ethan did not want to practice fire attacks lest he face Hajime's anger – so the young trainer decided to practice dodging. It was dark, and he figured that most pokemon attacks would be difficult to dodge anyway. Thus, he deduced, the current conditions were perfect for Doresey to practice his quickness and agility.

Practice did not start as efficiently as Ethan hoped. The young trainers gathered whatever he could find that could be thrown – sticks, rocks, clumped mud, and so on. The first couple projectiles hit Doresey square in the face. The quilava caught the third one – a stick - in his mouth, and he brought it back and dropped it at the young trainer's feet. Ethan sighed; Doresey yipped in delight.

It took some time for Ethan to properly explain what he wanted from the quilava. As he had learned from Professor Elm, most pokemon couldn't understand the nuances of human language. Over time, they could learn words and short phrases, but explaining something with long sentences was far beyond their capabilities. That didn't mean pokemon were dumb; far from it, as even the simplest bug pokemon could pick up and understand basic concepts such as attacking and dodging if properly trained. The issue lay solely in communication. Ethan learned that his quilava was quick to grasp a concept once he understood what was being asked of him. The only problem for the young trainer was properly conveying the information.

The idea was simple, but its execution was more difficult. Teaching Doresey commands for fire attacks was easier, as fire came naturally to the fire-type. Dodging was a harder concept to convey. Ethan started by slowly explaining what he wanted - placing emphasis on specific words, such as "dodging" – and would then pantomime the action. Then, Ethan would toss an object, either a stick or rock.

The same issue arose as before: Doresey would catch the object, drop it at Ethan's feet, and yip happily.

Ethan grunted in annoyance. Training was never meant to be easy. So, he repeated the process: explain the action, emphasize the command, and act out the action. It took a couple tries, but Doresey finally dodged the projectile when Ethan commanded, "Dodge!"

The young trainer clapped in jubilation and fed Doresey an oran berry. Positive reinforcement was the most important aspect of training, as learned from Professor Elm.

Rustling came from the grasses. Ethan jumped up, heart racing. Doresey's ears flicked, then he emitted a low growl.

"Who's there?" Ethan called out.

A dark shape emerged from the grasses. Its head – which looked like a shapeless-blob in the darkness – growled deeply, and its tails flickered violently. Doresey jumped in front of Ethan, his flames exploding with a brilliant glow against the night sky.

"What did I tell you 'bout that quilava's flame?" Hajime emerged from the tall grasses, his stern face shining orange in the light of Doresey's fire. The pokemon beside him – a mightyena – ceased growling. It looked up at its master expectantly.

"Sorry about that," Ethan said. He motioned for the quilava to put out his fire.

"Don't be sorry; be better. You gotta understand that fire pokemon en't just cute companions, they're weapons of destruction. By nature, fire destroys. As does fire pokemon."

"Understood," Ethan said, and he nodded his head.

Hajime answered with his own nod-of-the-head. "Good," he added. "Just wanna add that I en't tellin' you not to train that quilava of yours. Just, be careful with its fire is all."

"Understood," Ethan repeated.

"Now, that that's outta the way, recall your quilava and follow me. It's time you learned some more 'bout pokemon training." Hajime whistled, and the mightyena jumped to it side. He took something from his pocket, and the wolf-like pokemon began to smell it. Its ears perks, then the pokemon planted its nose into the ground and bounced into the tall grasses. "That there is Kuji. He'll be our guide."

Their path was winding and nonsensical underneath the starry night. For about twenty minutes, Kuji led them through the tall grasses and groves of trees, up hills and down hills. At one moment, they forded a stream, although the stream itself was little more than a trickle of water. All the while, Hajime would take frequent pauses - looking at the night sky, looking at his compass – before continuing.

When they reached a starlit meadow, Hajime flicked his hand back, a command recognizable to both human and pokemon: stop. Kuji didn't make a move nor a sound, but the pokemon leaned back on its haunches, waiting for his master's order. The older man lifted a finger. Following its direction, Ethan spotted a dark shadow sitting upon a tree stump or a rock – it was too dark to tell. Hajime crept so close to Ethan that he could smell the onion on the older man's breath.

"Stay quiet. Do you know what this is?" Hajime whispered. He retrieved a feather from his pocket.

Ethan shrugged.

"It's a feather." The older man pointed back to the silhouetted blob. "Specifically, a noctowl feather."

A well of excitement grew in Ethan's stomach.

"Do you know why I had Kuji lead us here?" Hajime said.

"Noctowl are psychic-types. Mightyena are dark-types, so he can block the noctowl's psychic powers." And suddenly, everything made sense. "You used Kuji to block that noctowl's psychic powers so that it couldn't spot us!"

Hajime shushed. "Stay quieter. That bird may be blind with its psychic, but it can still hear us. But, yer close. Noctowl do have psychic powers, but they en't psychic-types. Don't ask me why. And, yes; I did use Kuji to cover us. Whoever taught you the basics did a good job." He retrieved a ball-shape from his belt – a pokeball. "But, they didn't teach you all. Here, take this. It's empty. Now comes the fun part. Tonight, yer goin' to catch yer first pokemon. Follow my lead."

The older man jumped up in a flash; the noctowl turned its head. "Kuji, go!"

The mightyena leaped forward with bared fangs. The noctowl flapped its wings, futilely attempting to escape. Kuji slammed his head into the bird and knocked it down.

"Gold, prime the pokeball! Press its center!" Hajime ordered. "Throw it when I say so!"

Ethan pressed the central button. He heard mechanical whizzings and noises within the pokeball. Then, it clicked, and the noises ceased. The central button glowed a faint white.

Squawks and growls filled the air. The noctowl attacked with heavy wings; Kuji responded with a vicious kick of its front legs. The noctowl thrust its beak but narrowly missed. Kuji grabbed hold of a wing with its fangs, and with a twist, threw the bird to the ground. The noctowl stood up, its eyes glowing a dazzling array of colors. The hypnosis dissipated as the mightyena struck the bird with another fierce headbutt.

"Now, Gold! Throw it now!"

That excitement in Ethan's stomach exploded. The noctowl was a dark shape on the ground – helpless, and at his mercy. With a primal yell, Ethan leaped forward and tossed the pokeball. His aim was true, and the noctowl dematerialized into a red miasma and disappeared within the pokeball.

The pokeball rocked back and forth for two, four, six seconds. Ethan clenched his fists. A manic grin spread on his face.

The pokeball exploded into shrapnel. The red miasma reconstituted into the noctowl which wavered dazed and disoriented. Abruptly, Kuji headbutted the noctowl again. The bird collapsed to the ground once more.

Hajime broke into racous laughter. "Almost had 'im, Gold. Here, try another!" He tossed Ethan another pokeball.

Biting his lip in determination, Ethan primed the pokeball and tossed it back at the noctowl. Two seconds, four seconds, six seconds it rocked back and forth. Then, it stopped moving. The pokeball clicked, and its central button glowed a faint red.

Ethan slowly approached and picked up the pokeball. He stared at it for… he didn't know how long he stared at it. But, it felt like a long time. Something touched his shoulder, and he looked up to see Hajime smiling back down at him.

"Congrats on yer first catch, kid," Hajime said.

Ethan nodded, smiling stupidly.

"Enjoy the feelin' now, cus' training' that bird will be a pain in the butt. Trust you me." Hajime looked around, hands on his hips. "Now, I don't know 'bout you, but I am damned tired. Come. Let's go back to camp and get some sleep."

…

Ethan awoke to a colony of sentret emerging from the grass. The sun hung low in the sky, its rays barely peeking over the treetops, and yet the air was hot and stuffy. The sentrets' star-like bodies were glued to the ground, their pink tongues licking the dirt. _They must be searching for water_, Ethan thought. Speaking of, his throat felt particularly parched too.

When the sentrets' beady eyes made contact with Ethan's, they scurried back into the grass. The young man – _trainer now,_ he thought with a smile – leaned up and yawned and stretched his arms. By his side were Doresey's pokeball and the noctowl's pokeball. He hadn't given the bird a name yet, but he figured he had plenty of time on the ride to Cherrygrove.

After breakfast and coffee, the caravan assembled and returned to the dusty road. By late morning, they started passing homesteads that broke up the monotony of the forest. By early afternoon, the homesteads grew in clusters, and soon enough they could spot the Cherrygrove gates down the road.

"First thing I'm gonna do in Cherrygrove is grab a beer," Dontin said amidst yawns. Gulin and Kalin needed in agreement. "They got the best damned brewery down by the water."

Ethan nodded absently. It suddenly occurred to him that finding this Mister Pokemon in a city of tens of thousands would be easier said than done. It would be like finding geodudes amongst rocks. The only clue Professor Elm had given him was that this stranger could be found close to Route 30. It wasn't much, but at least it was a start.

The gatehouse was guarded by four guards, each armed with rifles. A mustached guard approached the caravan, scrutinizing the donphan before turning his attention to Dontin. "Identification please. If you're pokemon trainers, I'll need your trainer license and pokeballs for a count." A machoke stood behind the mustached guard, its muscled arms crossed.

Dontin, Hajime, and Ethan each gave the guard their trainer cards; Gulin and Kalin weren't trainers, so they handed him their Golden Prefecture identification. The guard took a long time looking over Ethan's card before finally returning it.

"Gold, eh? I swear, the names on these trainer I.D.'s get dumber all the time," the guard said with a grin. "Alright, pokeball check."

Dontin and Ethan's check went quickly. They each had two occupied pokeballs, well below the legal carrying capacity of six occupied pokeballs. Hajime proved more troublesome. First, the guard took his rifle and opened the breach, removing the slug. "Keep this rifle unloaded within the city, or you'll get problems," the guard said casually. The pokeballs were even more problematic. Hajime had five occupied pokeballs, and numerous unoccupied ones.

"The hell is this? You have way over the legal limit," the guard said. The machoke behind him uncrossed its muscles, looking quickly between its master and Hajime.

"No I en't. I got five right here," Hajime said, separating the occupied pokeballs. "The rest are unused. Just in case."

"Just in case, huh? What's in these five, then?"

"A mightyena, a rapidash, a pidgeotto, a boldore, and a staraptor."

"And why the extras?"

Hajime's frowned deepened underneath his mustache. "I go into the wilds a lot. They're good fer' protection."

"Another vagabond, eh? We've been getting a lot of your kind coming this way lately." The guard scratched his mustache while staring down Hajime. Finally, he waved his arm. "They're clear. Let 'em through."

When they were clear of the guardhouse, Ethan turned to Hajime. "What was that?" He said. "That guard didn't give Dontin and I such crap!"

Hajime shrugged. "The guards on the Route 30 gatehouse gave me the same business. They get scared when they see a well-armed trainer."

Ethan snorted. "You don't see checkpoints like that in New Bark."

"Eh, New Bark is different," Hajime said, stroking his mustache. "These bigger cities, they wanna make sure the people enterin' 'em are… desireable. Them guards are just doin' their jobs."

"They're acting like power-tripping assholes is what they're doing."

"Like I said, they're just doin' their jobs," Hajime said.

…

To someone from a large city, Cherrygrove was nothing more than a glorified lay-over town. To someone like Ethan, Cherrygrove was a loud, overcrowded, amazing peak of human civilization. The road from the guardhouse led straight to the main street. The buildings here were massive rectangular behemoths – some as tall as ten stories! People and pokemon crowded the street, but it was okay because the street was wide enough for two stagecoaches to pass by each other easily.

Dontin maneuvered his donphan to the side of the road. "This is where you get off, Gold. Main street, just like you said."

With a nod, Ethan jumped off the stagecoach. He shook Hajime's hand and nodded towards Dontin. "Thanks for the ride. Much appreciated."

"Of course, The pleasure is mine." Dontin stood up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "We'll be around town for a while selling our stuff. Listen, if you suddenly find yourself missing our superb company –" Hajime broke into laughter "- we'll be down by the water grabbing a beer. Place is called Mystic Water Brewery and Company. Once sun sets, we'll be there. That I can guarantee you."

With a bellow from its trunk, the donphan pulled back onto the street and turned a corner, disappearing from sight. Breathing deeply, Ethan gazed out onto the crowded city street lined with buildings. This was it. Professor Elm had instructed him with an important – no, vital – task, and it was up to him to see it through. Success would mean one step closer to a better Johto.

First, he had to figure out how he would accomplish it.


	4. Chapter 4

Azure yelped as he breathed in, inflating his body. His round ears flicked wildly under the strain. Then, with a cry, the marill unleashed a jet of water into the air.

The water gun came sprinkling back down. Lyra leaned back in bliss, the water droplets splashing against her face were an amazing comfort against the blistering heat. Another day, another cloudless sky, another roast underneath the oppressive sun. And yet, today somehow seemed worse. The air was stickier, whereas most of the other days were drier. Sweat dripped from her hair, soaking through her clothes.

A slight, almost imperceptible breeze wafted in from the south, rippling the waters of the Kanjo. Azure bobbed beneath the surface, then surfaced again with a splash, yipping with delight. He sprayed another water gun into the air, showering Lyra once again with cooling water.

_He sure seems to be enjoying the heat_, Lyra thought as she wiped the water from her face. With this heat, she couldn't tell if she was wiping away more sweat or river water. "That's enough, Azure. I think I'm wet enough." She giggled, watching the marill continue to play in the river without a care in the world. _Oh, what it would give to be a pokemon for a day_. In her mind, she envisioned herself as an abomasnow standing atop Mount Silver, arms open and embracing the wind, snow falling all around her. Oh, how amazing the views must be!

But instead, she suffered in the late summer heat, legs dangling in the Kanjo. Efforts to keep herself cool were demonstrations of futility, and only the wind she imagined atop Mount Silver served as a reminder of better weather. The views were dull down here, too; trees, brown river water, and more trees. And shriveled grass, of course. Then again, she imagined the brownness would look much the same atop the sacred mountain. _Very few places in Johto must be spared from this drought_.

Her morning started in the same usual way. She awoke well before her aunt – a common occurrence, but one that still peeved her because that meant she had to make breakfast, and Lyra did not like making breakfast. Mornings were for starting your day, not for working, and to Lyra, cooking breakfast was work.

Then, she walked past main street on her way to the Kanjo, and she had overheard Crazy Theo raving about a massive storm that was coming. "Lighting that torches the sky! Rain that comes down in sheets! The fires of New Bark will reach the sun! An omen from Arceus himself! But, it will only be just the beginning!" He screamed from his stoop by the Loyal Sentret. She recalled the spittle that dripped from his mouth, that crazed look in his eyes. Just seeing him gave Lyra the chills. The man was once normal, but those days were long passed.

But what happened then didn't matter; not here, not at the Kanjo River. The river was Lyra's special place, the only place where she felt she could escape the nothingness that was New Bark. The only place where she could dip her legs into the water, lean back, and daydream the morning away. What she dreamed of didn't matter; only that the dreams had nothing to do with being in this boring town.

A flock of spearow cawed overhead, shaking Lyra out of her reverie. She frowned; another strange happening in New Bark. Spearow did not usually nest around the Kanjo, and yet for the last couple days, she had seen spearow flying around the river in large numbers. Despite their size, the tiny birds could be particularly nasty and territorial. Even if the territory wasn't theirs, they had a notorious reputation of suddenly deciding otherwise, and Lyra didn't want to be on the wrong side of an attack.

"Okay Azure, enough play time," she said, picking the marill out of the river. She kept a close eye on the spearow. _I'll have to notify the Harold again_, she thought. Harold Lynanov, the constable, was a close friend of hers; in some regards, Lyra considered him her adopted father. She had told him yesterday about the spearow gathering by the river, but he apparently made no move to deal with the issue yet.

As she shook her hair dry, Lyra swooped her legs out of the water and dropped Azure to the ground. She kept an eye on the spearow as she walked back to the grove of trees, knowing that they liked to strike when their target's back was turned. By the time she entered beneath the canopy, she lost sight of the bird pokemon and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I think we have a few more hours to kill before we go home," Lyra said. Azure gurgled in response. Her aunt was probably still drunk, and she turned particularly nasty after lunchtime. It was only after her afternoon nap when her temper softened. If she had a job, Lyra probably would have spent her afternoons working, but there weren't many openings for a seventeen-year old woman. The Mareep's Milk had offered her a waitress job, an offer that was still open, but she had spent enough time around drunkards. She'd rather waste her days doing nothing than take that job.

After a few minutes of mulling about underneath the trees, she turned north. Living in New Bark meant that you had to know how to kill time, and Lyra was a professional when it came to killing time. There was someone else on her mind that she decided she should visit. Merely thinking of the poor women upset Lyra deeply. Azure rolled by her feet, a blue blur amongst the dust. After passing some homes and dried up ponds, she came across the Markin house. She walked up the stony pathway and knocked on the door.

"Lily! Lily, are you home?"

No one answered. After a moment, Lyra heard the sounds of hammering from the back of the house. She circled around the house and stopped at the fence demarking the mareep pen. Within were a couple of grazing mareep and Lily. The older woman was up to her elbows in mud, digging into the ground for some reason. Stone piles sat to her side.

"Lily! Lily, hey!" Lyra leaned against the fence, smiling widely and waving her hand. By her leg, Azure also stuck his head through a hole in the fence, yipping and waving a blue paw.

The older woman looked up and smiled faintly. She grabbed a rag beside her and started rubbing off the mud clinging to her arms. "Hey Lyra. What brings you here?" Then, she turned her gaze to Azure. "Make sure that… pokemon doesn't creep through the fence, okay?"

Lyra shooed the marill back with her feet. "Nothing much," she said, returning her focus to Lily. "I just – well, I just… How are you holding up?"

Lily's smile turned sad, then it disappeared entirely after she scrunched her face. "I'm fine, Lyra. Is there anything else?"

Lyra paused for a moment, stunned by the older woman's sudden change in tone. "Nothing else. Just wanted to make sure everything's with okay – which it sounds like it is – after Ethan -"

"I said I'm fine. And Ethan – wherever he is – is fine, too. I'm sure of it." Lily crossed her arms. Her bonnet shadowed her face, giving off a cold look. "Is there anything else?"

"Nope," Lyra said, trying – and failing – to smile warmly. "Well, it was good to see you Lily! Come on, Azure. Let's go!"

She could feel the older woman staring holes in her back as she walked away. Lyra couldn't help but feel terrible for Lily, despite her sudden nastiness. All she wanted to do was offer the older woman some condolences, but it seemed that Lily was not yet ready for such things. She couldn't blame her; it was all her shit son's fault!

Now it was Lyra's turn to have her mood fouled. She knew exactly what happened to the poor woman; everyone in town knew what happened to the poor woman. New Bark was small, so when something exciting happened, news spread like wildfire.

Three days ago, Ethan Markin disappeared during the night, but the news didn't break until yesterday. For whatever reason, Lily kept it to herself; she didn't notify anyone, not even the constable. Something happened between last night and this morning because when Lyra woke up, Ethan's disappearance was the only thing the town could talk about. It peeved her that she was one of the last to learn about it.

Of course, there was another reason his disappearance angered Lyra. A day before his disappearance, Ethan promised her – _he promised!_ – that he would bring Lyra along with whatever adventure he was going on. Lyra knew he was leaving – he had admitted as much - and she was supposed to go with him. It wasn't that she particularly liked Ethan; she found him to be insufferably arrogant. But, he was leaving, and she wanted to leave too, so teaming up seemed like the best option. At least for a short time, that was. If Lyra knew where the bastard ran off to, she would track him down if only to smack him across the face for lying to her. On top of being arrogant, Lyra learned that he was also a selfish, lying bastard. And, he didn't even tell his own mother that he was leaving! Who does that?

Lyra sighed and sat down on a rock, sinking her head into her hands. She looked up to see Azure staring back at her, his black eyes glowing with curiosity. He yipped with concern. "I really should stop feeling bad for myself. It's selfish." She sighed again. "What should I do, buddy?"

The marill hopped into her arms, and she promptly pulled the pokemon in for a hug. She truly was being selfish. Ethan wasn't her child - she could hardly call him her friend! Lily was the one actually suffering. "I need to stop feeling bad for myself," Lyra repeated.

For all of his many faults, Ethan was driven. It certainly contributed to his arrogance, but when he wanted to do something, he did it. Nothing would come between him and what he wanted, for better or for worse. He was like that in school, and he still like that now. For once in her life, Lyra needed to be more like that. She needed to stop thinking and just _go_.

"What do you think Azure? Why should I cry and whine and sit on this rock in this shit town while Ethan goes off to see the world? Why do I need to wait for him, or _anyone_? Why shouldn't I do the same?" Lyra had no idea where Ethan went, but there weren't many options either. It had to Cherrygrove to the west, Blackthorn to the north, or Viridian to the east. She shook her head; it didn't matter where Ethan went, all that mattered was where she would go. "We are definitely going to Olivine. The lighthouse is supposed to be lovely! Plus, the water is supposed to be nice there. You can swim in the harbor!"

Azure squealed in delight.

"Then, we can visit the Whirl Islands and be the first to explore the caves! We can walk up the steps of the Tin Tower and be the first to ring the Clear Bell since Hideki the Great! We'll walk all across Johto and Kanto, and then we can take a boat to Hoenn and walk the Chimney Mountains! My hair will turn grey, and you'll evolve into an azumarill. We'll become old, grizzled adventurers that don't take shit from anybody. We won't have to wait on anybody or ask for permission for anything! Just you, me, and whatever lays before us!"

As she spoke, Lyra leaned back against the rock and closed her eyes. In her mind, she could actually see the things she spoke of. The Olivine Lighthouse and Tin Tower illuminated brilliantly in her mind's eye by some unseen sun. Imaginary sand shifted beneath her feet as she looked upon the Whirl Islands, the waves crashing against the beach to her back. Ash and smoke fell around her as she walked through the deep chasms of the volcanic Chimney Mountains. She could do this. She _would _do this. All she had to do was push herself.

Lyra opened her eyes and smiled. "What do you say, Azure? Is that the kind of life you want to live?"

The marill yipped joyously and jumped in the air. He sprayed a water gun in the air. It fell back down to the ground, the droplets like a mosaic of colors shining in the sunlight.

…

"… and how many spearow did you see in the flock this time?" Harold sighed heavily, putting his pen down to massage his temples.

"Umm, six – not wait! Seven. Yes, seven spearow," Lyra said. She sat opposite the constable, a large desk standing between them. Azure squirmed in her arms every now and then. He was probably hungry, she figured. It was two o'clock, well past his lunchtime – and well past her lunchtime too, now that she thought about it. As if on cue, her belly rumbled.

It was still too early for her aunt's afternoon nap, and therefore still too early for Lyra to go home. She decided that her best option was to notify the constable of the spearow flock she saw earlier. Surely that would help prevent an accident in the future. So, she headed straight to his office, a double-story building with a gabled roof nestled between the Loyal Sentret and Mary's Marvel Mansion. On the other side of main street was the Mareep's Milk and Grigory's General Store. Between those four buildings, the area was often nicknamed the Square of Trouble, what with its penchant for frequent drunken violence and occasional petty thievery. Truly, it was the most perfect place for the constable's office.

The inside of the office was fairly plain, the first floor dominated by the constable's large desk. At the foot of the desk slept the constable's pokemon, a manectric. Sunlight streamed through a window, illuminating the interior. A staircase sat at the back of the room; one set ran upstairs towards the deputies' quarters, and one ran downstairs towards the jailcells. The constable's other pokemon, a hitmonlee, leaned against the railings of the staircase heading downstairs. Lyra could hear moans and bangings echoing from the jails of the drunkards waking up to their hangovers, only to find that their hangovers were not the worst thing they were waking up to.

Harold stomped on the floor and yelled "_Shut up!" _in the direction of the staircase, loud enough for the manectric to jump up in shock, elecitricity sparking off its fur. The moanings and the bangings ceased. Then he sighed and ran his hand over his bald head. His eyes looked sunken and tired in the windowlight. "Damn drunkards caused trouble last night at Mary's. Me and deputy Oliva spent all night cleaning up their mess." Harold shook his head, sighing again. "Anyways, the spearow. Seven, you said? Did you see a nest anywhere this time? Usually, they're up in the trees."

Lyra shook her head. "No, I don't remember seeing a nest. I go to the Kanjo almost every day. In fact, I don't ever remember seeing a flock of spearow before the past couple days."

"By Arceus," the constable muttered. He placed his pen down on his desk. "This is probably the same flock of spearow you've seen the past couple days. They are birds; they can travel too, you know." He shook his head and grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. "Why are wasting my time with this, Lyra?"

"I – what?" Lyra tried her best to flash a disarming smile. The constable was the closest thing New Bark had to a village leader, and he certainly looked the part. Whatever hair he had left on his head had migrated to his face. His burly arms crossed his strapping chest. He was kind, but he was also no-nonsense man, and if he thought someone was feeding him a pile of tauros shit, he did not hesitate to express his disdain. For you and your nonsense. Lyra's smile faded beneath Harold's crippling stare. "Well… I – you know. Spearow are dangerous, and I – well… wanted people to be safe…?"

"No, _fearow _are dangerous. Spearow are little more than pests. Honestly, Lyra!"

Lyra threw her arms up and nearly knocked Azure off her lap in the process. "Honestly what? I thought they might be a problem."

Harold groaned and leaned his head back. When he looked back at Lyra, his face softened, his no-nonsense frown all but faded. "No, no. You're right, Lyra. Spearow can be trouble, but to be honest, I simply don't have the time or manpower to deal with a minor issue. Relatively minor, that is." He stood up, towering over the desk. Lyra made to sit up too, but the constable motioned for her to stay seated. "No, please. You said you had more to say. Sorry for snapping at you. I barely got three hours of sleep last night; been working all morning. Arceus knows I need a break. You want some coffee?"

"With milk, please," Lyra said. Harold nodded and walked toward a side room beside the staircase.

The constable returned with two steaming mugs in one hand and a cup of milk in the other. He placed both everything down on the desk, reached to pet the manectric behind the ears, then sat down. "By Arceus am I tired." He took a sip from his mug. A smile blossomed beneath his beard. "That's good. How's yours, Lyra?"

She took a sip, the gave a thumbs up. Azure chirped happily. "Good, thank you."

"Normally I'd tell you to stop bothering me during work hours, but," his smile grew mischievous, "to be honest, your company isn't half bad all the time."

"Half bad? My company is great!"

"You keep telling yourself that," Harold said laughing. He wiped a coffee dribble from his beard, then looked at his clock on the wall. "Aren't you usually home at this time? Usually you stop by earlier."

Lyra shrugged. "Well, my aunt was still asleep when I woke up. Figured she had a late start to the day, so…"

"Ah, I see." The constable nodded in understanding. "I guess that's why you spent your whole morning by the Kanjo staring at spearow?"

"I thought they would be a problem!"

Harold put his hands up in protest. "I'm just teasing. But honestly though, I barely have time to look into it. Shit keeps flying onto my desk these days. A couple homes on the west side have been fighting over property lines since last week, one of Professor Elm's aides wanted to file a report over some apparent stalker they've been having. Some kid with red hair keeps staring at the lab from across the street, apparently. And just this morning, another telegram arrived from Blackthorn detailing some new decree from Clair. I swear, we get a new one of those every day."

"Crazy Theo has been shouting his doom and gloom again," Lyra added. She took a sip to hide her shudder. _Lighting that torches the sky! Rain that comes down in sheets! The fires of New Bark will reach the sun!_

"That too! I swear, every time that loon opens his mouth, the people in this town get dumber." He shook his head in disgust. "Just two days ago, someone from the north side stormed into my office and demanded – _demanded!_ – to know what I was going to do about this drought. Me! As if I can control the weather like –" He snapped.

"If only you could. I'm sick of this heat." The two sat in silence, drinking their coffee. Azure would occasionally squirm in Lyra's arms, to which she would scratch his ears and coo softly. All the while, Harold eyed the marill with scrutiny.

Moaning and bangings echoed from the jails again, noticeably souring the constable's mood. He stood up in a huff and walked downstairs, his hitmonlee following in suit. After further shoutings followed by a sudden and loud thud, Harold and the hitmonlee walked back upstairs. A light sheen of sweat covered both. "Sorry about that," the constable said, wiping a hand across his forehead. "Just a minor disagreement."

"I stopped by Miss Markin's earlier," Lyra said after a moment. She took a sip from her mug.

"Did you now? Why?"

"Just wanted to see how she was doing after, you know, Ethan disappeared," Lyra said, shrugging. "She was not happy to see me," she added quietly.

Harold put down his mug with a sigh. "You really need to stop doing things like that, Lyra."

"Like what?"

"Like intruding on other people's business. Just because I tolerate it with you doesn't mean others will. Just because Ethan's disappearance is the talk of the town doesn't mean you need to take it upon yourself to deal with it. That's my job." Harold lifted the mug back to his lips only to put it back down, empty, in disappointment. "Arceus knows enough people have bothered her about it already. Shoot, Arceus knows I get enough people bothering me about it, too."

Lyra cracked a smile. "You know, you sure do complain a lot about your job."

Harold laughed. "If you had to serve as constable for the fine denizens of New Bark, you'd find yourself complaining, too."

"Oh, trust me. I don't plan on staying in New Bark long enough to take over your job!"

"Just don't disappear on me like Ethan!" Harold stopped laughing and cleared his throat. His voice softened. "Are you actually planning to leave New Bark?"

Lyra opened then closed her mouth, unsure of what she was going to see. "I don't know. Maybe," she said after a moment of silence.

"Well I'd hope you'd tell me before you go. Disappearances are nasty business."

Lyra glared, meeting the constable's eyes. "I would _never, ever_ do that to you. I promise."

"Good." Harold nodded, his gaze drifting to somewhere along the wall. "Good."

They talked for another hour, sharing stories and laughing about other current events in town. Harold made more coffee and occasionally had to go back downstairs to keep the guests – as he called them – quiet. When the conversation had all but ceased, Lyra looked at the clock and saw it was almost three-thirty. She bid goodbye, and picked up Azure to leave.

"Hold up one second," Harold said, lifting a finger. He pointed it at the marill. "If you're actually serious about leaving, you need to do something about that."

Lyra tilted her head, confused. "What, Azure?"

"Yes, the marill. Please tell me you've finally gotten your trainer license."

Lyra bit her lip, then gave the constable her best award-winning smile. "Can't say I've found the time, Harold. You know they cost money and there's the test and –"

"By Arceus," he said, massaging his forehead. "I shouldn't need to tell you the penalty for carrying a pokemon without a trainer license in the Silver Prefecture. By law, I should have hanged you already."

Lyra gulped. The constable was more than a friend to her, but his brutal honesty could still chill her to the bone on occasion.

"Everyone knows you in New Bark, Lyra. Everyone sees you walking around with your marill," Harold continued. "That won't be so outside of here. If you leave, I won't be there to stop you from making mistakes."

"I can make perfectly fine decisions all be myself," Lyra retorted. Her eyes narrowed. "Is there anything else?"

Harold shook his head. "Just tell your aunt I said hello."

With Azure in tow, Lyra left the constable's office and walked into the searing heat of dusty main street. She had been inside so long that she needed to shield her eyes in the sunlight. Few people were outside; only a trader walking his donphan-led cart down the road. And Crazy Theo, of course, sitting on his usual stoop by the Loyal Sentret.

With a sigh of frustration, Lyra walked down the road. She greatly admired the constable, and often he was her sole source of stability, but he also had a way of grinding her nerves every now and then. Yes, she knew that he was technically right; she was breaking the law, after all. But, who gives a damn? A marill was one of the more harmless pokemon. She looked at the man with the donphan-led cart; did he have a trainer license? What about all the mareep farmers, did they need trainer licenses too? A mareep's shock certainly hurt more than any attack from marill, she was certain of that.

Her wandering mind was interrupted by a sudden outburst from Crazy Theo. "Lighting that torches the sky! Rain that comes down in sheets! The fires of New Bark will reach the sun! An omen from Arceus himself! But, it will only be just the beginning!" He screamed, standing on his stoop with his arms out wide. After a moment, a dropped to a sit and began muttering incoherently to himself.

A sudden feeling of dread sank into Lyra's stomach, and she only barely washed away the notion with a quick shake of her head. "Dumb laws, crazy people. One day, Azure. One day we'll leave this town." In her mind, she was on a boat travelling between the Sevii Islands, waves and wind splashing on her face. She looked to her right and the great adventurer, Hideki the Great, stood beside her, encouraging her forward.

But, she was only in dusty New Bark. A flock of spearow flew overhead, coming from the east and turning north, cawing the entire time. "Must be that same flock from the Kanjo," Lyra said, frowning. "Maybe they'll pick me up and fly me out of here." Pure fantasy, of course, but an entertaining one nonetheless.

Suddenly, another flock of spearow came from the east. Then another. And another. Soon, it seemed like the entire sky was swarming with spearow. Their caws consumed the air. In terror, Lyra grabbed Azure and ducked underneath a porch ceiling.

And just as soon as they came, the spearow left, flying north, leaving only confusion in their wake.

**(o)**

Lily sat at the kitchen table, her body exhausted and her skin burnt from hours spent outside. Tears rolled down her cheeks, smudging the buildup of dirt. She breathed deeply in a vain attempt to keep control over herself, but it was hard to do so in these moments of loneliness. She wanted to scream, to yell out "Why, Gods? Why have you singled me out?", but she could not find the words. Working outside kept her mind distracted, but in these lonely moments at the table, it was hard to keep her dark thoughts at bay.

She hadn't wanted to go inside, not when there was still daylight left, but a sudden flock of spearow appeared out of nowhere. There must have been hundreds of the bird pokemon, all flying and squawking in the air. The flock's sudden appearance scared the mareeep into huddling beneath a tree, and Lily ran her hardest into the house, slamming the door behind her once she was inside.

That was a couple of hours ago, and once she found herself inside, she found it difficult to get herself back outside. It was as if the chair she sat in glued her butt to the seat.

She gripped the full, steaming mug of tea in front of her; she hadn't taken a sip yet. Instead, she breathed in deeply, embracing the herbal aroma. The heat soothed her aching hands and helped kept her mind clear.

When Ethan disappeared in the night three days ago, Lily knew that her boat had been thoroughly rocked, and only sheer willpower kept it afloat. _Wherever he is, he's safe. I know it,_ she thought. Those comforting thoughts helped her keep her last bits of sanity. Her son was rash and bullheaded, but he was clever and perceptive, too. Wherever he was, Lily had upmost confidence that Ethan could keep himself safe and out of trouble.

Or, she so desperately hoped.

Frankly, it was not only the fact that Ethan left that upset her so much. She had prepared for this moment when she found that pokeball in the bag underneath his bed; she just didn't anticipate him to leave so soon after. No, what angered her were the people that swarmed her like flies to a corpse, offering their condolences with croconaw tears. The same thing happened when Gerald left her all those years ago, and the same thing happened now. Toby Mrances stopped by; Lyra Otkin; Alexa and Theodore Maratov; them plus others all stopped by to offer her well-wishes, asking her what _they _could do to help. Why couldn't these people get it into their thick heads that Lily didn't _want _their help?

Oh, Lily tried to keep Ethan's disappearance a secret, but she cracked two nights ago while at the Mareep's Milk. A couple drinks in, and she started bawling. If only she could've kept her in emotions in check…

And then there was that bastard, Professor Elm. Sly and slinking. He was behind this, she just knew it! He was the one that gave her son a pokemon, who was the one that thrust a dangerous and heartbreaking responsibility upon her clueless son! It wasn't Ethan's fault for accepting; the boy didn't know any better!

Years ago, before Ethan was born and before her hair turned gray, Lily trained pokemon. But all it brought was heartbreak and tragedy. Her first tragedy. Nothing good came from training pokemon, nothing. She truly feared that her son would go down the same path.

Lily stopped to breathe. Tears were streaming down her face again, but these were not ones of sadness; they burned like the fire in her belly. She stood up and unclenched her fists – she had no idea when she clenched them in the first place. _A walk_, she thought. _A walk to… I don't know. Somewhere._

Her walk was a short one, and she found herself in her bedroom standing over a small bedside cabinet illuminated with evening light from the nearby window. The cabinet had one drawer, and in that one drawer was a folded blanket that encompassed the entire container. The far corner of the blanket bulged slightly. Long ago, when she had first moved to this house in New Bark, Lily promised herself that she would never remove that blanket for the rest of her life. The blanket itself was of a faded green and brown meant to mix in with forests and grasses. Its edges were faded after years of use from a past far gone. Just looking at the thing made her stomach ache.

And then, somehow, her hands moved to the blanket – whose hands were those? She would _never_ do such a thing! But the blanket was lifted, and underneath sat a greatball, its blue top-half faded to a near white, and scratches cut deep into the white half. It was a memory of a time long since passed, and more than that, it was her own little secret. No one in New Bark, not even her son, knew that she kept this by her bed. She lifted it with trembling hands as the memories rushed back. Painful memories, so much so that she shut her eyes as if that would help.

She wasn't always Lily the house mother and mareep herder. How long had it been? Two decades since she last opened this greatball? It was at least a couple years before Ethan had been born…

A knock on the front door drew Lily's attention. She frowned: _Another wanting to offer condolences, probably_. She didn't return the greatball to the drawer; inexplicably, she kept it in her hand.

"Hello?" She said as she opened the front door.

The towering figure of Constable Lynanov stood outside, sweat dripping profusely across his face and bald head. His expression was somber, and he stood at a distance from the doorway. Behind him, his hitmonlee stood with arms across its body.

Lily's immediate thought was to slam the door on his face, but she withheld the urge. "I thought I told you to not to investigate Ethan's leaving." Her voice was acid. "Wherever he is, he is safe. He can take care of himself."

He shook his head and tried his best to smile. He put his hands up as if to surrender. "No, nothing like that Miss Markin. After that flock of spearow overhead – crazy stuff, wasn't it? After that flock flew overhead, I planned on going to the Kanjo to investigate. Figured that's where they came from and all. And, since your house is along the way… Well, I figured I'd stop by and see –"

"And see what? How I'm doing? I'm fine."

The constable nodded awkwardly. "Of course, of course. And you look like you're doing fine! But, I had some people stop by my office, said you looked like you needed some help –"

"Those other people need to learn to mind their damn business."

"I couldn't agree more, miss –"

"Then why are you're here?" Lily's voice was hard as steel. She could feel a dribble of tears running down her cheek. "Why are you disturbing my peace? I'm fine. Everything is fine. Leave. Me. Alone."

And then she shut the door on the constable's face.

She swallowed hard as she leaned against the door, listening to the constable's footsteps grow fainter and fainter. The tears had stopped; it seemed that she did have a limit on how much she could cry after all. Another passerby wishing to offer unwanted condolences, only this time it was the constable. If only out of respect for Harold's position, she should have listened to what he had to say, she shouldn't have slammed the door in his face, but she was frankly tired. Of thinking about Ethan, of being reminded about Ethan. Why, oh why could she not be left to grieve on her own? She stayed leaning against the door for what felt like a long time, but couldn't have been more than a minute. She clutched the greatball in her hand and breathed deeply.

Lily heard a noise outside. Actually, she heard many noises. Shouts and footsteps, and then the unmistakable sound of pokeballs opening and spilling their contents. Slowly, she moved toward the window by the front door and peered outside. And what she saw horrified her.

There was a pair of people wearing hoods that obscured their faces. Their black slacks and dark red shirts offered a stark contrast to the sunburnt grass. They stared down the constable with their pokemon – a crobat and a machoke. Harold stood his ground, shouting something that Lily couldn't hear, his hitmonlee standing between him and the hooded fiends.

The hooded fiends struck first. The crobat soared to the sky as the machoke bum-rushed the hitmonlee. The kicking pokemon slid underneath the machoke's swinging fist and countered with a sweeping kick to the knees.

As the machoke flipped upside down and landed on its back, one of the fiends circled around the battling pokemon and faced the hitmonlee's back. Suddenly, the fiend leaped towards the kicking pokemon, a long knife appearing in hand.

Lily screamed as the knife protruded from the hitmonlee's gut. The pokemon took one look at the blade sticking out of its belly, and then slumped into the arms of the murderous fiend. A horrified expression came upon Harold's face, and he seemed as if he was going to shout something too, but the crobat suddenly descended upon him, knocking him over. The bat pokemon sank its fangs into his shoulder.

Something came over Lily as she watched the fiend with the blade slowly stalk towards the supine Harold. The blood on the knife glinted a brilliant red in the evening sun. An anger descended upon her, and then that anger morphed into a sort of focus that she had not felt in decades. A focus that was only honed after years of battle. Harold was in trouble, and she would not let further harm come to him. Not if she could help it.

The two fiends and their pokemon abruptly shifted their attention as Lily kicked open the front door, the greatball facing outward in her extended hand. _Who is this? _Lily thought. Absently, she wrinkled her nose at the sulfuric odor of the red miasma. _I am not this woman anymore!_

And yet, she still pressed the centerpiece.

The fiends smiled greedily at the sight of the red miasma, but their smiles disappeared when the miasma formed into a skarmory.

The armor bird pokemon took a moment to gather its surroundings, something that almost drew Lily out of her strange reverie. She looked at Lily with confusion on her face, and Lily couldn't help but feel a pang of regret; when was the last time she had sent out Ariana? Twenty years ago?

But it was too late to turn back now. Lily had so thoroughly rocked the boat that it was now sink or swim. She pointed towards the fiends. "Ariana! Attack!"

The skarmory jerked her head back towards the fiends, and with a screech that sounded like metal grinding against metal, she dashed forward. Her wings spread out, revealing silver and blood-colored blades that glimmered with a dangerous edges, and the armored bird took flight.

One of the fiends dove out of the way; the other didn't. Ariana cut through the unlucky fiend's body like butter, slicing the torso from the legs and sending streaks of blood through the air.

The crobat entered the scene, flying after the skarmory with lightning speed. But, Ariana banked hard to the left and came face-to-face with the crobat. The bat pokemon barely had time to slow down before it was skewered by the skarmory's beak.

Ariana landed in front of Lily, wings spread out and ready for another assault. The second fiend had finally stood back up and took a moment to glance at the carnage.

"Come at me you bitch!" The fiend said in a male voice. "Submission!"

The machoke hesitated for a moment, no doubt considering the bloody remains of the first fiend and the crobat, but then it charged the skarmory with a roar. Ariana sidestepped the machoke's blind shoulder charge and retaliated with a strike of its metal wings, cutting deep gashes into the machoke's face.

_She still remembers how to battle_, Lily thought with a smile, but then quickly shook the ridiculous thought away. The greatball had held Ariana in stasis; the last time the skarmory had seen her, Lily was a younger woman with much less gray in her hair and perhaps a few less wrinkles too.

Reeling from the counter strike, the machoke lifted one hand to cover its wounded face while pushing out with the other and striking the skarmory. But the damage was minimal, and Ariana chomped down on the machoke's exposed hand. The machoke cried out in pain.

"Call back your pokemon!" Lily yelled at the fiend. _Who is this person that's speaking? This isn't me!_ "Or I'll have my skarmory kill your machoke, and then I'll have her kill you!" _This isn't me anymore!_

The fiend growled. "Dynamic punch!"

The muscles on the machoke bulged, stretching the skin to reveal the pink flesh underneath. It yanked its hand out of the skarmory's bite, losing some fingers in the process. With its other hand, the machoke unleashed a devastating punch on Ariana's exposed face, sending the skarmory flying backward.

Ariana stood up quickly, but her legs were unsteady and she seemed to sway in place. The machoke was slow to follow up though; it was still reeling from its injuries, but after another shout from the fiend, the machoke stalked toward the skarmory with murderous intent.

"Come on Ariana! Snap out of it!" Lily shouted with urgency. The skarmory's armor could block most attacks, but an angry machoke could punch through it with ease. "Take to the skies!"

Ariana seemed to hear part of Lily's words because she started flapping her wings, awkwardly ascending into the air. But, it was too late. The machoke had crossed the distanced and with its good hand, yanked the skarmory by the leg back toward the ground.

Suddenly striking the ground snapped Ariana out of her confusion, and the skarmory started squawking and screeching deafeningly. It was enough for the machoke to recoil.

_There's the opening!_ "Go for its neck, Ariana!" Lily yelled.

Even though the machoke still held onto the skarmory's leg, Ariana still managed to flap her steel wings to gain some air. Twisting her body, the skarmory slashed its wings across the machoke's neck, sending a spray of blood across the grass.

The machoke let go and stumbled backwards, its good hand gripping the gaping wound in it neck, blood seeping between its fingers. After a moment, the machoke collapsed.

Lily and Ariana turned their deadly focus to the remaining fiend. She couldn't see his face, but by the way he looked around, he was clearly afraid. He turned and ran.

"Oh no you don't," Lily hissed under her breath. "Get 'im, Ariana!"

Lily didn't look to see what happened, but she heard the screams. She moved with casual ease over the corpse of the machoke, over the disembodied legs, and over the bloodied crobat. She sighed when she caught a glimpse of Harold's hitmonlee; its hand lay over the wound in its stomach, and it seemed to have stopped breathing.

Lily kneeled beside the constable. His left shoulder was purple, and swollen blood vessels patterned like spiderwebs circled around the bite marks. "Poison,_" _she murmured. But that wasn't what disturbed her the most. It was the way Harold looked at her. He seemed more afraid of her than of the poison that coursed through his body. His eyes were wide and fearful.

"You – you – you –" Harold coughed weakly. His gaze kept switching between her and Ariana and the corpses.

"Don't speak," Lily said quietly. Crobat poison was a hemotoxin; internal bleeding would set in shortly without treatment. "Save your energy."

And suddenly, that intense focus that had descended upon her washed away. Lily blinked, and the back of her throat went dry as she looked upon the carnage, carnage _she _was responsible for. The stench of blood and sulfur was too overpowering; she tilted her head to the side and vomited. _This is it, there is no going back_, Lily thought as she watched Ariana dance amongst the corpses, picking bits of flesh here and there. This was the life that she had left twenty years ago, the life that she had kept repressed in her memories for the twenty years since, and the life that was responsible for her first tragedy.

The life of a pokemon ranger.

Distantly, the sounds of battle elsewhere rang out. The smell of smoke wafted in the air. New Bark was burning, but the fire in Lily's belly burned out, and all she could do was sit on her knees and weep beside the wounded constable.. For despite her best efforts, her past had finally caught back up to her.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I would like to thank user **kintsugii **for offering his beta services for this chapter. They are of huge help, and the critiques really helped me gain focus on not only this chapter, but the direction of the story!

* * *

The red flag of House Alemov floated lazily in the stiff, humid air. The pole it was tied to sprouted from the middle of the road, rising as tall as one of the five-story buildings. A pidgeot's wing, outlined in yellow, was printed against the red fabric. It symbolized the success of the Alemov family. The House's words were inscribed on the flagpole's stone base: _Riding Forth on the West Winds._

Ethan could only look upon the flag with disgust. _What sort of pompous ass has their own flag?_ he thought. Briefly, he considered taking a knife to the rope that held it up. Oh, the joy of watching that rag heap float to the ground! He would get in severe trouble – such an action would probably draw the direct ire of Falkner Alemov himself. The warlord of the Violet Prefecture ruled from his palace in Violet City, but Ethan had no doubt Falkner would descend upon Cherrygrove with the wrath of Giratina if one of the icons of his family's rule was desecrated.

He turned his attention back to the hat stall he was attending. Acts of vandalism were fun to consider, but he had more important tasks at hand. Like finding Mister Pokemon. Or, buying the flat-brimmed black hat with the gold stripe that caught his eye.

The hat vendor seemed to notice. "Made with real mareep wool from New Bark," he said with a smile. "Not that fake stuff coming from Goldenrod these days."

Ethan didn't know what fake stuff the vendor was talking about, but he figured it was just a sales ploy. "How much?"

"Oh, let's say… one-hundred and fifty yen."

After some haggling, Ethan managed to bring the price down to only one-hundred yen. Normally, he wouldn't spend time or money on something as frivolous as a hat. But, he figured it would help maintain – or at the very least, hide – his unruly black hair. And, he was flush with cash. Professor Elm had given him a stipend of twenty-thousand yen, more cash than he had ever had on hand. Where the professor gotten that money, Ethan had no idea. Technically, it was supposed to be for essential purchases only, but he figured he could spend a little bit on luxury.

After that, Ethan walked down the busy street, dodging people and pokemon in droves. At first, the crowds were overwhelming, but then he thought of them like the waters of the Kanjo; as long as you stayed with the current, the crowds would not drag you away. And it was not like he was going anywhere in particular. As he walked, Ethan tried his hardest to devise a plan to find this Mister Pokemon. Or draw him out, if possible.

It turned out that he didn't actually need a plan or put in much effort regarding what to do next. Not ten minutes after buying the hat, he was approached by a bald older man with a bushy, white beard.

"You're late, Gold," the bearded man said.

Ethan stopped suddenly. The older man did not look like the Mister Pokemon he imagined. He thought him more like a Professor Elm figure: tall and skinny, with sharp eyes, possibly wearing glasses too. "Are you Mister Pokemon?" he asked.

The bearded man harrumphed and rolled his eyes. "Meet me at the Cherrygrove General tomorrow morning at eight. It's at the cross street of Poliwag Avenue and Cherry street. Two blocks north from our current spot, then turn right onto Cherry Street. Walk for about five minutes, you'll see the building, large with a red coat of paint. Don't be late this time."

"Can't we talk here?"

With another harrumph, the bearded man turned and hustled down the road, disappearing as quickly as he appeared.

As he watched the bearded man walk away, Ethan considered the odds that that man was, in fact, Mister Pokemon. It wasn't like he was given confirmation to affirm that fact. The whole interaction was bizarre. How did he know who Ethan was anyway? Other questions passed through his mind, but they blurred together incoherently

Regardless, the old man who might be Mister Pokemon said to meet at the Cherrygrove General tomorrow morning. Ethan still had tons of time to waste before then. Blossom Square, according to his map of Cherrygrove, was only five block to the west. It was late afternoon, but still too early for dinner, so Ethan decided that his best course of action was to train. He wanted to continue his training with Doresey, but more importantly, it would also be an opportune time to introduce himself to his newly caught noctowl.

Blossom Square, true to its name, sat at the cross section of eight streets, each street going in a cardinal or ordinal direction. Its very nature made it seem like it was the center point of Cherrygrove, and according to Ethan's map of the city, it very nearly was. Sun-dried cherry blossoms lined the edges of the square, leaving the interior an empty, grassy field for people to lounge, train, or do whatever else came to their mind. As with the tall grasses of Route 29, the grass of Blossom Square was brown and sickly, and very few people seemed to occupy the square this afternoon. The un-Godly heat and humidity simmered above the ground like boiling water.

_More room for me to train, then_, Ethan thought with a smile.

In a flash of red miasma, Doresey appeared by Ethan's side. Like the harsh heat, the stench of sulfur sat heavy in the air. The quilava squinted in the sunlight and shook his head and growled as if it would scare away the sudden brightness. Another flash of red miasma appeared, and this time the noctowl appeared. The first thing it did was duck its head underneath a wing, shielding itself from the unobstructed sunlight.

_Damn, forgot about that_, Ethan thought, grimacing. Pokeballs held their contents in stasis. The last thing Doresey and the noctowl saw was the stars and moonlight. A sudden blast of sun would shock anything. Even though Doresey shied from the sudden sunlight, as a species, quilava were used to operating during the day. He would recover quickly from the sudden change. Noctowl were nighttime creatures, and with its dilated pupils, it was a wonder this bird didn't go blind.

Ethan's hand gripped the pokeball, his thumb about to press the centerpiece to recall the bird when he suddenly decided against it. No. This was the perfect opportunity to condition the noctowl. The first part of training a new pokemon was to make sure it knew who the boss was, and to dominate it if necessary. Professor Elm had told him so. With the sunlight blinding the bird pokemon, it would be at his mercy.

"Strike it if it looks like it'll attack me," Ethan told Doresey, who eyed the bird pokemon closely. Ethan walked to the bird, which was still cowering under its wing to hide from the sunlight. Sooner or later, he knew, it would get used to the sun, and any advantage he had would be lost. He dropped to a knee and faced the noctowl. "I am your trainer now." It sounded silly hearing it said out loud, but he didn't know what else to say. "You can either listen to me and make this easy, or you can ignore me and make this hard."

From underneath its wing, the noctowl stared at Ethan with its large eyes. Mesmerizingly large, he noticed. A man could get lost in that deep blackness within, an ocean of warm solitude. The darkness blossomed into a mosaic of greens and reds and blues. The colors glowed and swirled like waves upon a beach; like a whirlpool, they flowed inward…

A blur passed in front of Ethan, abruptly knocking him out of his reverie. He found himself on the ground on his butt with Doresey standing between him and the noctowl. The quilava's flames spiked from his back, plumes of smoke escaping his mouth as he growled. The noctowl, eyelids half closed like it was falling asleep, apparently now no longer feared the sunlight. It stood with its wings out wide in a menacing pose.

"Son of a bitch!" Ethan jumped to his feet. The bastard pokemon tried to hypnotize him! "Guess we'll do this the hard way. Doresey, tackle it!"

The quilava struck head first, hitting the noctowl square in the chest. The flying type stumbled backwards before quickly regaining its feet. It tried to take flight, but Doresey struck it again with another tackle.

"Keep on it, Doresey! Don't let up!"

In this battle, Doresey was king on the ground, and each time the noctowl tried to take flight, the quilava quickly struck it with a tackle or bite. The bird pokemon lashed out with its wing, striking Doresey in the head, but it didn't do much other than briefly slow down the quilava from his assault. After another tackle, the noctowl hit the ground and stayed down.

Ethan approached the flying type slowly this time, wary of another surprise hypnosis attack. The noctowl had chosen domination. So be it. "Are you going to try that again?"

The noctowl looked up at Ethan's face, then hooted softly. Gingerly, it brought itself to its feet – Doresey had done a number on the bird pokemon. But, the noctowl didn't attack again. It looked at Ethan, then drooped its head down in defeat.

"I'm glad we reached an understanding," Ethan said. He reached into a pocket and grabbed an oran berry, sticking it in front of the noctowl. The bird pokemon took a sniff, then turned its head away.

"You're going to want to feed it meat."

Ethan and Doresey jumped toward the noise. He suddenly realized that a small crowd had gathered to watch him battle his noctowl. He could feel a red heat growing on his cheeks.

"Rattata and sentret, specifically." The voice came from a young man not much older than Ethan. His long brown hair fell to his eyes, drifting in the warm breeze. He tilted his head slightly. "Did you hear what I said?"

Ethan looked at the noctowl, whom glanced back at him. "Yeah, I heard you. Rattata and sentret. Not oran berries."

The young man nodded, looking at the noctowl and Doresey. He stuck his hand out. "Name's Joey. Normally, trainers battle each other in Blossom Square. I don't think I've ever seen a trainer battle his own pokemon, though."

Ethan meekly shook Joey's hand. "Gold. It's freshly caught, but isn't tamed yet."

"Yeah, I figured. But, that quilava looks pretty decently trained. Say now: how about a quick battle? One-on-one."

Ethan paused for a moment. He looked at Doresey, then back at Joey. A smile grew on his face. "I accept."

"Great!" Joey reached for a pokeball on his belt and ran about thirty feet away before stopping and turning around. "The battle stops when one of us forfeits. How does a thousand yen on the match sound?"

Ethan grimaced at the amount. Could he _really _justify another nonessential purchase? Perhaps not, but then again, why would Elm give him a pokemon if not to be a trainer? And trainers were supposed to battle, were they not? How could he keep up appearances if he couldn't act like a trainer?

Ethan looked up and met eyes with Joey, and he twisted the brim of his hat backward. "Sounds good to me!"

A red miasma appeared, morphing into a raticate. The rat pokemon sniffed the ground before looking up and seeing Doresey. It bared its fangs, hissing. "Bet you never saw a raticate as tough as mine," Joey called out.

"You ready for this?" Ethan said quietly to Doresey. The quilava cast a quick glance to his trainer as if to say, _of course!_, then looked back at his opponent. He coughed a plume of smoke, and his back flared.

Ethan smiled. "Give 'em hell! Blast it!"

The flames danced along Doresey's back. The quilava stood on his hind legs and shot a fireball at the raticate, which promptly leaped out of the way. Doresey shot another fireball which the raticate dodged, too.

"Bite it," Joey ordered.

The raticate sprang forward, closing the distance between it and the quilava with frightening speed. It leaped in the air, maw opened and exposing its large bucked teeth. But Doresey dodged with alacrity, and the raticate crashed onto empty ground.

"Smokescreen!" He said while also thinking: _Those teeth are real nasty_. He couldn't just command Doresey to shoot fireballs as he originally wanted; the raticate was too quick to dodge those. As the smoke and ash settled, a large gap opened between the two pokemon. A gap that Doresey could exploit if him and Ethan played their cards carefully. "Keep your distance, Doresey!"

Across the field, Joey furrowed his brow in frustration. "Stay close, Oiya!"

The raticate leaped forward once more, again closing the distance between it and Doresey with its speed. The quilava jumped backward just in time to dodge a bite from the raticate, and the quilava dodged again when the raticate followed up with a vicious swing of its tail.

_Seems like that practicing on Route 29 is helping_, Ethan thought. He ordered another smokescreen, and a cloud of smoke descended across the battle once more.

"Gods dammit!" Joey yelled. "Are you gonna fight back, or do you only attack your own pokemon?"

A dark scowl crossed Ethan's face. _No!_ His own voice screamed in his head. _I'm not gonna let his taunts get to me! _He breathed deeply, calming himself. Professor Elm taught him pokemon, and some battle techniques, but a live battle was different. So far, he had relied on his gut instincts, and those seemed to be working well. But, as the ash and smoke settled for the second time, a plan began to develop in his mind. Another gap was opened up between the two pokemon. Doresey couldn't just blindly shoot fireballs – that proved to not work. But, the raticate seemed awfully vulnerable whenever it jumped to attack. Perhaps…

A smile crept on Ethan's face.

"The hell are you smiling about?" Joey said. "Oiya! Close the distance! Bite it!"

Like clockwork, the raticate ran straight towards the quilava. It leaped in the air with its mouth wide open, ready for a bite.

_Perfect!_ "Blast it, Doresey!"

The flames on the quilava's back grew, and he opened its mouth. Joey's face transformed to sheer terror, and he yelled unintelligibly, trying to divert his pokemon's attack, but it was too late, a ball of fire grew in Doresey's open maw; the raticate was in the air, fangs glistening, ready to bite, and Doresey let loose the fireball, and –

\- and the fireball missed wide right.

Ethan figured he had the dumbest look on his face, what with his eyes wide open and his jaw dropped. The raticate collided with his quilava with vicious force, but it still took him far too long to register that the battle was over. As he listened to Joey's whooping across the battlefield, Ethan reached for Doresey's pokeball and returned the quilava. There was no way the quilava could beat the raticate at close with range, not with those giant teeth. That gnawing feeling in his stomach was confirmed. His first battle: lost.

"Hell of a fight! Hell. Of. A. Fight!" Joey ran over to Ethan and slapped a hand on his shoulder. "I swear for a moment there, that quilava of yours had Oiya dead to rights! But then that fireball missed, and – by Arceus, you almost had me there! By all accounts, I got lucky. That quilava of yours almost had Oiya. But don't feel too bad, Oiya's a great raticate. Top percentage of raticates, if I do say so myself. I swear…"

Joey kept talking, and Ethan tuned him out. It was only his first battle, but the feeling was still terrible. And it wasn't only because he lost. As Ethan handed the one thousand Yen to Joey, he couldn't help but notice the specks of blood that dotted the raticate's whiskers.

Someone from the gathered crowd screamed, and the two of them looked up. The stench of acrid smoke drifted in the air, and Ethan's stomach dropped. Doresey's errant fireballs caused the dry grass to go up in flames. That wasn't the big issue, though; the grasses burned through quickly and was little more than ash and smoke and embers. No, one of the fireballs struck one of the cherry blossoms, and now hot flames lathered its leaves and branches.

"We should probably leave," Joey said, gulping.

Ethan nodded absently, still finding it hard to speak.

"There are a couple of pokemon centers in the city," Joey continued. "Let's go. I'll show you the one farthest from Blossom Square."

…

After walking for about a half-hour through the squat, flat-roofed buildings, Ethan found himself alone on the darkening streets of Cherrygrove. The sun was setting overhead, and Joey's home was nearby.

"The pokemon center is about another thirty minute walk east," Joey said. "And – uh – I would keep a low profile if I were you. For the time being at least. The city is pretty overprotective of the cherry blossoms here, and – well – you did just burn one down."

_Me!?_ Ethan thought. _You were battling, too!_

But, he didn't have a chance to speak out as Joey had already turned a corner.

Cherrygrove gave the impression that it was a gridded city, but as the streets ventured farther from Blossom Square, they began to curve and turn randomly. The tall and magnificent buildings that lined the road from the Cherrygrove to Blossom Square shrunk to houses and buildings no taller than the Mareep's Milk in New Bark.

By early evening, a hungry and tired Ethan walked into the pokemon center.

A common myth Ethan heard was that all healing in pokemon centers was free, but that was all it was – a myth. In reality, the cost of pokemon centers depended heavily on their tax status and subsidies in their respective prefecture. Pokemon centers in the Tin Prefecture, for example, were famous for being free and all-encompassing.

Cherrygrove was not in the Tin Prefecture; it was in the Violet Prefecture, and the Violet Prefecture did not subsidize their pokemon centers. A simple checkup on the noctowl and basic treatment for Doresey cost Ethan ten _thousand _yen, over half his remaining cash. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, ten thousand wasn't that much, but that didn't stop a knot from growing in his already nauseous stomach. Matters were made worse when he handed over an additional eight hundred Yen for a room for the night and dinner and breakfast. As if losing the battle wasn't enough, now it had an actual, tangible price tag that Ethan was feeling the effects of.

"Only one room left too," the center's clerk said as Ethan paid. "Buncha people came down recently from the Violet City area. Apparently, tensions are getting real hot with the Golden Prefecture. Fighting's gonna break out any week now between the two. Can't say I blame them for leaving."

As he ate dinner, news of the burning cherry blossom reached the pokemon center. "Some dumb kid with an untrained quilava," one older man said to another. No one seemed to suspect Ethan, but that didn't stop the nurse that was treating Doresey from giving him the side eyes. And all the while, Hajime's words rang in Ethan's mind: _By nature, fire destroys. As does fire pokemon._

No constable or deputy came to the pokemon center inquiring about a trainer and his unruly quilava. Based on the gossip spreading through the center, Falkner Alemov had called most Cherrygrove guards and law enforcement to Violet City in anticipation of further escalations. All that remained was a skeleton crew performing only the most necessary functions. Apparently, accidental arson did not meet those standards. Ethan could only praise Arceus for such luck.

After dinner, Ethan set his room alarm for six in the morning – he would not, under any circumstances, listen to that so-called Mister Pokemon complain about him being late again. When he walked downstairs the next morning, he was greeted by a cheery nurse that handed him his two pokeballs. Immediately, he opened Doresey's pokeball.

"How you doing, buddy?" Ethan said, kneeling down to pet the quilava. Doresey purred softly to his touch, and yet Ethan still had a terrible feeling in his gut. He traced his finger along a discolored patch of skin above the quilava's left eye. "Damn. I'm sorry I let this happen to you."

"Oh, that's nothing. Barely more than a scratch for a pokemon," the nurse said. "A pokemon's blood clots faster than a human's, so even a cut from a thing as nasty as a raticate's fangs will heal quickly. And with little scarring too. Plus, your quilava is just the sweetest thing!" She kneeled down to scratch Doresey behind the ears, who eagerly stood up on his hind legs and licked the nurse's face. She laughed, but her face quickly turned to a scowl. "But that noctowl of yours – oh boy, I don't think I've seen a bird with a meaner temper before."

Thanking the nurse, Ethan recalled Doresey and left the pokemon center. He would rather walk with Doresey, especially after a tough loss, but he decided it was better to keep a lower profile. He could only assume that having a quilava walking beside him would be an invitation for trouble.

Upon stepping outside, Ethan immediately stopped. Something felt… not wrong, but weird. As if the air was different. He looked up, and he noticed the source.

For months, each day brought a cloudless sky and a scorching sun. Maybe a couple cloud clusters here and there, but nothing significant. But today? The sky looked bruised like a flesh wound, the bottoms of the clouds undulating like water in the wind. The orange of the morning sun was dulled greatly behind the grayish-blue wall, with only a few specs of light able to creep through. A cool wind traveled through the trees, enough to make Ethan shiver.

"Guess the weather's finally turning," he said. And it was about time, too. Like an unwanted guest, the heat of the summer had long overstayed its welcome. The pleasant chill of autumn was appreciated.

It took Ethan a solid half-hour to find the Cherrygrove General, but he did, and with plenty of time to spare. Much to his surprise, Mister Pokemon was already there waiting for him, leaning against the bright red wall of the store.

"Heard you had plenty of fun yesterday," Mister Pokemon said with a scowl on his face. "Heard you picked a fight with some random nobody at Blossom Square. Heard you even managed to set a couple cherry trees on fire. Congrats."

The sarcasm was so dry it made Ethan thirsty. "I am a pokemon trainer. Having battles is what we do."

Mister Pokemon whipped around. "A fake trainer ID doesn't make you a real trainer! You're supposed to keep a low profile, not start fires!" He shook his head vigorously. "I swear, if you worked for me, I would have smacked you so hard up the head you'd be flying."

In silence, Ethan followed Mister Pokemon down a meandering road. He supposed the old man did have a point; while Professor Elm never _explicitly_ said to keep a low profile, the idea should have been assumed in the first place. Then again, what was the harm of a single trainer battle? Ethan shook his head, frowning. _That old man is just looking for reasons to dislike me_, he figured.

Gradually, the squat, two-story houses gave way to more and more trees, and at one point they passed by a small pond to their right. The cool breeze stayed steady, making the walk much more pleasant than it would have been in the heat of previous days. Finally, after about forty minutes, they came upon a house that sat on the banks of a tiny, dried stream. Beyond the river ran a wall of deciduous forest. The house itself was little more than a cottage, what with its gabled roof and its walls made of logs and its single window that sat next to the doorway. It was easily the smallest building Ethan saw in Cherrygrove.

"This is it," Mister Pokemon said. "Any farther, and you're in Route 30. This is as far as Cherrygrove goes."

Ethan nodded as they walked up to the door. Mister Pokemon opened it, and beckoned him inside. Just like the outside, the inside was quite spartan. The door led into an open-roomed floor, with the kitchen sitting next to the entrance. A table sat at the near corner, where a women with black-rimmed glasses and thick brown hair tied in a bun sat reading some documents. A man with gray hair sat at the table too, but his back was turned to the door. A bunk bed and a twin bed sat in the far corner.

And suddenly, a dark shape spun towards Ethan, stopping barely a foot away from him. Beady eyes looked up at him, barely peeking out from beneath a metal coat. _A trap!_ Ethan thought as he stepped back and reached for Doresey's pokeball.

"Dammit, Almond! They're guests, dammit! Leave 'em alone!" A foot stomped.

The forretress blinked for a moment, then spun off to the side and closed its shell. Ethan looked up to see that the voice came from the woman, whose face was contorted in anger.

'Sorry about that," she said as she walked toward Ethan. She extended her hand. "Almond tends to be overprotective. You must be Gold, I presume?"

Ethan hesitated, then accepted the woman's handshake. Then he turned to face the old man. "Well, we're here, Mister Pokemon. Tell me what I need to tell Professor Elm."

Much to Ethan's surprise, Mister Pokemon's face turned a bright red, and his eyes drifted downwards as if trying to focus on anything but him. Behind him, he heard the woman mutter, "You idiot," and he heard the gray-haired man break out in laughter.

Ethan turned to look at the back of the gray-haired man's head. "So, you're Mister Pokemon!"

The woman audibly smacked her palm against her face. "Mister Drifloon," she said, speaking to the bald-headed old man, "you are dismissed."

"Yes ma'am," the bald headed man – _not Mister Pokemon!?_ Ethan thought – said. He turned and walked out the door.

Slowly, Ethan's head swiveled to face the woman. Her dark brown eyes glimmered dangerously behind the lenses of her glasses. "_You_ are Mister Pokemon?"

"Took you long enough," she said. "Though I suppose if there were more men in the room, it would have taken you even longer."

"But you're –"

"- a woman? So what? It's an alias." Mister Pokemon interrupted as she sat down. "Is your real name Gold? Are you made of gold? Do you shit gold in the bathroom? No to all three, I'm guessing." She sighed, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "You make terrible first impressions, Gold. Yes, Mister Drifloon told us about your misadventures yesterday. What on earth made you think a pokemon battle was a good idea? By Arceus, why – out of all people – did Professor Elm choose to send you?"

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but the gray-haired man spoke up first. "Relax, Mister P. It was just a pokemon battle. No harm could have come from it. That fiery impulsiveness is innate to all young trainers. You can't fault him for that."

"One: don't tell me to relax, and two: yes I will blame him for that! Being given a pokemon doesn't make one a trainer." Mister Pokemon pointed a finger at the gray-haired man. "And you of all people have first-hand experience with the downsides of that 'fiery impulsiveness', Oak!"

Ethan choked on his breath; what was that name she just said? As if to answer his question, the gray-haired man turned to look at Mister Pokemon, his face weathered and tanned from hard traveler, his eyes glowing with knowledge. "Holy shit…" he said just a touch too loud.

Professor Oak briefly considered the young trainer before returning his attention to Mister Pokemon. "We have a guest, Mister P. We should be mindful of his presence."

"All I'm saying is that fiery impulsiveness you just praised this kid here for is the same fiery impulsiveness that caused you to go be in hiding for the past three years. Have you already forgotten the civil war?"

The eyes of the legendary professor darkened as if a storm passed through. He blinked, and they were calm again. "No, Mister P. I have not forgotten. Not a single day of these past few years has passed without me thinking of it. Always, the events of those days cross my mind. But, I trust Professor Elm. And, Professor Elm clearly trusts Gold here. So therefore, I trust Gold. And you should, too."

Mister Pokemon pursed her lips and shook her head slightly. "If that's the way you see it."

"It is."

Mister Pokemon raised her hands as if in surrender, then turned to face Ethan. "Have a seat, Gold. Let us discuss business. Do you have any questions before we start?"

"One actually," he said as he sat down. "How did Mister – Drifloon, I believe you called him? How did he find me so quickly? It wasn't even ten minutes after I was dropped off at Main Street when he came up to me."

"Well that one's easy. Professor Elm sent us pidgey mail with your physical description. We figured it would be easier for us to find you than it would be for you to find us." She shook her head and chuckled to herself. "Elm and his pidgey mail. One thing I'd like you to tell him, Gold, is that there is nothing wrong with sending something by telegram. He's always been skeptical of it, but I keep telling him that there is nothing to fear."

She clapped her hands. "Anyways, if that's all your questions, then let's get onto business."

Mister Pokemon spoke of what she learned with earnest, describing in great detail the pains she went through to acquire the information and the intricacies of her plan. "A great plan!" she said. "It cannot fail, so long as you do _exactly_ what I say."

Ethan listened intently, or at least he gave off the impression that he was. In truth, at least half his attention was on the legendary Professor Oak. When Professor Elm sent him on this mission, Ethan figured the mission itself would be the highlight. Not in his wildest dreams did he ever expect to see _the _Professor Oak! If Professor Elm was a king amongst the pokemon professors, than Professor Oak was a god. A revolutionary – albeit a failed one, but a revolutionary nonetheless.

"… and this is the broach that you need to show to the kannushi of Sprout Tower." Mister Pokemon placed an engraved pin on the table. It was in the image of a bellsprout with outstretched leaves, except that its bulbous head was red. "This is a special pin that the sages of Sprout Tower made specifically for me. It means that you are a friend of the Tower. It is important that you do not lose this."

"Got it," Ethan said, pocketing the broach. "It won't ever leave my side. Not until I get back to New Bark."

"Good, good. It is also important that Professor Elm sends someone experienced to Violet City as soon as possible. The kannushi believes that there is an opening for the Tower to seize control from Falkner Alemov. I was told that Falkner is amassing troops. There is going to be a border conflict with the Golden Prefecture over Route 34, and soon. If we play our cards right, we can tilt the balance of power away from Falkner and toward the sages. But, they are afraid to approach Falkner directly – they don't think any in their number are strong enough trainers to overpower him. Very cowardly, if you ask me, but that's what I was told. Tell Professor Elm that he needs to send the best trainer he has available to Violet City."

And as she spoke, Ethan couldn't help but feel Oak's piercing gaze, as if the professor was reading his thoughts.

Mister Pokemon clasped her hands together. "It is of great importance that the Sprout Tower is in control of the Violet Prefecture. The kannushi has already sworn allegiance to our organization –" She motioned to herself and Professor Oak." – and they will be of great importance in overthrowing Supreme Emperor Lance. Without them, the other dominoes cannot fall into place."

"Okay, another question," Ethan said. He waited until Mister Pokemon nodded her head before continuing. "Why does it have to be Professor Elm to arrange this? Don't you two know any strong trainers?"

"If I may, Mister Pokemon?" Professor Oak interjected. He cleared his throat. "Quite frankly, Gold, this whole thing is Professor Elm's brainchild. I tried three years ago and failed. A lot has changed since then."

"What he means, Gold," Mister Pokemon continued, "is that he is a wanted criminal in Kanto and Johto. It's too dangerous for him to show his face. Not even the Sprout Tower will align themselves with us if news spreads that Oak is openly involved with our plot. And me, on the other hand; I gather intelligence. I am no trainer."

Professor Oak leaned forward on the table. "I hope you understand, Gold, that overthrowing an emperor is no easy business. Whether in the shadows or on the battlefield, each must play their part."

Ethan nodded.

Professor Oak clapped his hands together. "It is of grave importance that this information and the Sprout Tower broach reaches Professor Elm quickly and quietly. Time is of the essence! No one but us knows that the Sprout Tower will betray House Alemov. If news of this spreads, then everything we've worked for will collapse upon itself." Then he smiled wide: a wise, grandfatherly smile. "But, we aren't in such a hurry that you can't stay for lunch, if you'd like."

Mister Pokemon cast a glare at the professor. "So long as it is the legendary pokemon professor making us lunch."

It was only ten in the morning, well before what any normal person would consider lunch, but Ethan accepted the food nonetheless. One does not simply deny an invitation from Professor Oak. The food wasn't anything special: just some toasted bread with a magikarp spread. The next couple hours were spent with idle conversation. Mister Pokemon kept sending a considering look Ethan's way; it didn't give off either an overtly positive or negative vibe, but it still made him feel uncomfortable. It was as if the woman was trying to divine his secrets just by looking at him.

Even Professor Oak kept glancing oddly at Ethan. At first, he thought it a compliment – after all, who wouldn't want to be the focus of the infamous professor's attention? But he too had prying eyes, and Ethan resorted to eating his food in silence, keeping his head ducked down. If he couldn't stop their intensive gazes, he could at least try his hardest to ignore them.

The door opened suddenly, unleashing a chilly gust of wind inside. Mister Drifloon hustled in, his white beard frizzled in all directions. He immediately turned to the Professor and Mister Pokemon.

Mister Pokemon spoke before he could. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay on Main Street!"

"Beg your pardon, Mister P, but we have a…" Mister Drifloon cut his words short. He cast a quick glance at Ethan, then refocused his gaze to Mister Pokemon. "I stopped by the telegram office – late morning, as I always do – and, well, we received a telegram from…" Again, he cut himself short, casting a slight glance towards Ethan. He held the telegram towards Mister Pokemon. "Perhaps you should just take a look, ma'am."

Pursing her lips, Mister Pokemon took the telegram. Her eyes gradually widened as she read its contents, and then she passed it along to Professor Oak, who was peering over her shoulder curiously. His reaction was much the same.

"May I see the telegram?" Ethan said.

Professor Oak looked up at Ethan and made a face. After a moment, he took a matchbook out of his pocket, lit a match, and took it to the telegram. "I wouldn't worry about it," the professor said as he watched the ash flitter towards the table. "In fact, forget what I said about taking the broach to Elm. Go to Violet City directly from here and meet with the kannushi."

"What?" Both Ethan and Mister Pokemon said at the same time.

Professor Oak ignored Mister Pokemon, keeping his attention squarely on Ethan. "You heard what I said. We will relay the information to Elm that we changed your task." The old professor's gaze softened. "I trust you, Gold. I see great potential in you. Can you do this for me?"

Ethan looked from Professor Oak to Mister Pokemon to Mister Drifloon. All had the same expecting look on their face. He knew what it meant; Professor Oak made an order, and you do _not _disobey his order. "Well, thank you for hosting me," he said awkwardly. "I won't let you down, Professor Oak." He turned to walk out the door, then suddenly stopped and turned around. "For Nihon," he added.

Their reactions were not what he expected. Instead of the expected "For Nihon" response, they each looked at each other with curiosity painted on their faces. Ethan couldn't quite understand why; he and Professor Elm always repeated that phrase after a meeting. Did they do things differently in Cherrygrove?

"Just get to Violet City," Mister Pokemon said after a moment's silence.

Feeling embarrassed, Ethan walked out the door.

…

Neither the wind nor the gray sky had not cleared since the morning; if anything, the wind blew harder and the sky seemed darker. In the distance, a bell rung twelve times.

Like a leaf in the wind, Ethan drifted down the crisscross of streets towards Blossom Square. He only had one thing on his mind as he walked: Professor Oak told him to go to Violet City.

Oak.

How would Elm react to the news? Did it even matter? It wasn't like Ethan would be the one to tell the professor. Besides, Oak and Elm were on the same team. Surely an order from Oak was the same as an order from Elm.

Regardless, he would need supplies for the trip north. Perhaps, if Dontin and Hajime were heading towards Violet City, he could team up with them again, but he didn't want to plan on it; he wanted to be prepared in case he needed to make the trip alone. Then there was the aspect of timing, too; he already made a poor impression with his tardiness, and he would not make that same mistake with the Sprout Tower. He would leave tonight, and sleep on Route 31. More money spent on supplies and less on expensive rooms for the night, and all that.

By the end of his shopping spree, his pack was heavier by five pokeballs, a few packages of dried tauros meat, and some packages of nuts and dehydrated berries. Now, he only had one thousand Yen left to his name. The wind still whipped between the buildings considerably, and the sky had grown darker, the bruised sky turning black. By the way his stomach grumbled, he assumed it had to be around evening. So, he walked in search of a nice meal before he left Cherrygrove.

Somehow, his legs had brought him to the harbor district, where a fishy smell hung between the squat, dirty buildings. Sailors, sweating and stinking of ocean salt, walked between the narrow avenues, their equally sweaty and smelly pokemon following them. The wind was greater here, blowing the cloth lines that hung between the buildings violently, threating to drag away the clothes from their clips. Even Ethan had to keep one hand on his hat to stop it from blowing away and another in front of his eyes to stop the dirt and dust from blinding him.

And then he was at the water front. Small, sail-driven fishing vessels docked and rocked in the disturbed water. The Cherrygrove harbor was too shallow and rocky for large trading ships to dock, so many of the larger ships were floating out a ways in the middle of the water. The harbor was an open area, and only a few buildings stood near the water. One building was a particular source of drunken, raucous laughter. Underneath a sign that read _Mystic Water Brewery and Company_, sailors stumbled into and out of the building, and others loitered outside, smoking tobacco.

Almost immediately, he was stopped inside by a large, bald man with tattoos rising up his arms and neck and hariyama wearing a red sash across its ample stomach. After a tense moment where the two stared at Ethan, appraising him up and down, front and back, they stepped aside and let him into the bar.

The smog of tobacco smoke hung in the hair like a specter. In the corner, a radio blared the latest hits from Goldenrod Radio.

He spotted Hajime's gray ponytail and Dontin's balding head. Both men sat next to each other at the bar. _I don't see Gulin and Kalin. Thank the Gods_, he thought.

"How's it going, guys?" Ethan said as he approached the bar. He had to yell over the chattering and music playing. "Miss me yet?"

Both turned their heads, but Dontin spoke first. "Gold! I thought I told you to come yesterday." He flagged down the bartender. "Doesn't matter, though. I forgive you. Grab a seat and I'll grab you a beer."

Ethan grabbed a seat next to Hajime. In the dim lighting, the shadows lined the wrinkles on the older man's face. He looked at the newspaper - the Cherry Tribune – that was on the bar top before turning his attention back to Ethan. His face looked grim.

"What's up with you, Hajime?" Ethan said. "Is everything alright?"

Hajime gave another quick glance at the newspaper. He smiled, or rather tried to. "Oh, you know me, kid. I en't doin' half bad. Heard someone with a quilava set fire to a tree in Blossom Square yesterday. You wouldn't happen ta' know 'bout that, wouldya?"

"You heard about that too? News sure travels fast here."

"Cherrygrove en't as big as it looks, Gold," Hajime said. "I thought I –"

"Beer here!" Dontin said, sliding a beer Ethan's way, foam spilling off the top. Ethan took a sip, then raised the glass in thanks.

"As I was sayin'," Hajime continued, "I thought I told ya' ta' be careful with fire pokemon?"

"I was! Doresey had that raticate handled easily! It's just that, well – Doresey missed is all. There wouldn't have been a fire if the attack hit."

Hajime shook his head. "You don't listen, do ya'? I thought I told you to be careful, Gold. Fire pokemon en't toys. But, that en't what's really concernin' me. Tell me: how are _you_ feeling?"

Before Ethan could address the question, Dontin piped up once more: "Hey Gold, did you hear about the attack on New Bark yesterday?"

All the noise and drunken debauchery in the bar became a distant distraction to Ethan. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Hajime smack his hand against his face, but that too was only a distant distraction. There was only one though on his mind. "_WHAT!?"_

Dontin looked about to speak, but Hajime promptly slapped a hand over the fat man's mouth. "So you en't heard the news yet," Hajime said as he slid the newspaper to Ethan.

Jaw dropped open and hands trembling, Ethan read the front page of the newspaper. Or, he started to, but he quickly stopped. Underneath the printed _Cherry Tribune_ at the top of the page read the article's title: NEW BARK ATTACKED BY RAIDERS; NO SUSPECTS DETERMINED YET. Underneath that read the blurb: _Sometime yesterday afternoon, the northern part of the sleepy town of New Bark came under attack by a group of well-armed individuals; some with pokemon, and some with conventional firearms. The attacked seemed well-coordinated, leaving some…_ And Ethan stopped reading after that.

Breathing shakily, Ethan put down the newspaper. As he wiped a hand across his forehead, he felt the sweat that streaked across his fingers. Professor Elm lived in the northern part of New Bark. Hell, he and _his mother_ lived in the northern part! Immediately, memories of the strangers he and Hajime met on Route 29 came to the forefront of his mind, and the mere thought of them made his stomach sink like a stone.

He looked left. Hajime was looking back with piercing, appraising eyes. With a deep breath, Ethan stood up and walked towards the door. Distantly, he heard Dontin yell, "Where you goin? You barely touched your beer!", but he paid the fat man no mind.

Outside, the wind had picked up considerably and carried a cool, damp chill with it. It was dark, too. Much darker than it should be for a late summer evening. Ethan held both Doresey and the noctowl's pokeball in his hands. He wasn't sure why he was holding them, but the cool surfaces of the pokeballs felt good in his hands. They made him feel strong, powerful.

He stopped in his tracks. He suddenly remembered: Ethan was supposed to go straight to Violet City, and quickly at that.

"Time is of the essence of a revolution. The moment comes and goes in a blink of an eye, and if you miss it, it may be gone forever." Those were Elm's words dancing inside Ethan's head. On the one hand, all of the planning that went into overthrowing Lance could hinge on this moment; if Ethan whiffed, everything could be lost for good. But on the other hand, New Bark was his home. Elm and his mother lived there, and how could he go forward knowing they might be hurt? Hell, he even wanted to make sure Lyra was okay!

Again, Elm's words rang in his mind: "You must be willing to sacrifice if you want to see Lance fall." But, Ethan wasn't sure if he could make _this _sacrifice. New Bark was attacked, and he wanted – no, needed – to make sure everyone was alright.

For now, Violet City would have to wait.

He continued walking. The wind howled between the buildings with such force that it seemed the Gods themselves tried to stop Ethan in his tracks. There were other sounds like the grinding of streetlamps against their anchors, the flapping of shudders against windows. At one point, he thought he heard something over the wind, but he paid no heed to it. Suddenly, Hajime appeared in front of him, ponytail tossing in the wind and face hard.

"I said stop, kid. En't you listenin'?" Hajime shook his head and spoke before Ethan could. "No, you en't. Yer just stompin' off thinkin' yer gonna save of all New Bark."

Ethan growled underneath his breath. "What's it to you what I do?"

"What's it to me? En't it enough for me to want to help you?"

The two stared at each other for a moment, then Ethan brushed passed Hajime. "Thanks. But I think I can get to New Bark on my own."

"And how exactly will you do that? Can't you see a storm is brewin'? And based on this wind, it'll be bad."

Ethan ignored the comment and kept walking. As they walked back through the harbor district, the street grew narrower. At a particularly narrow junction, Hajime jumped ahead and blocked the road.

"Dammit, Gold! Listen to reason, why don't ya'! I don't care how tough you think you are. It don't do anybody any good if you get yerself hurt!"

With a deep breath, Ethan drooped his head. The rage on Hajime's face faded and he laid a comforting hand on the young trainer's shoulder.

"I'm sure you have folks you care 'bout back home," he said in a soothing voice. "And I'm sure they want to see you safe. It don't do anybody any good if you run off in a fury, only ta' get yerself hurt."

The older man was right. But Ethan didn't care. The fire in his belly rose once more, and he looked up at Hajime with darkness in his eyes. With all his weight, Ethan pushed forward, knocking the older man to the ground.

As he ran through the narrow streets, he thought: _Don't worry, I'll be there to help_. He wasn't sure how he would help, but he didn't think it mattered, either.

**(o)**

Mister Pokemon walked circles around the small room, the sound of the wind blowing outside almost drowning out the stomping of her shoes against the wooden floors. Professor Oak sat at the table looking at the telegram Elm sent earlier. Not reading it, just looking at it. _For as long as I've known Elm, he had never sent a telegram before_, Oak thought, scratching his chin. _How bad could the damage to his lab be?_

Finally, Oak looked up from the telegram. "Could you please stop pacing? You're making it hard to think."

Mister Pokemon whirled around and planted her hands on her hips. "No, I won't stop pacing! I have too much shit on my mind." Sighing, she took her head in her hands and massaged her temples. "This safehouse is not good anymore. Whoever attacked Elm's lab might know that we're here."

Professor Oak had known Mister Pokemon for a long time, going on twenty years by now. She was strong and capable, but every now and then she seemed to crumple under stress. "Relax, Sasha. We don't even know who attacked Elm's lab. Let's not be too hasty."

"How many times have I told you not to call me that anymore, Oak?"

"What, you're real name?" He offered a smile.

"I said cut the crap! There is no Sasha anymore!"

Oak's smile turned to a frown. "Okay, fine. Mister Pokemon. But I still believe that we should not simply surrender this safehouse. Not yet, at least."

"No, it's too late for suggestions," She said, shaking her head. "I'm going to start making preparations to leave, with or without you. I'm thinking I'll go to Violet City – catch up with the Sprout Tower there, maybe monitor that Gold kid, too."

Oak sighed. As brilliant as Sasha – Mister Pokemon, rather – was, she could be quite stubborn when her mind was set. "Fine. I suppose I'll make preparations to head to Goldenrod City. I know the family of a former acquaintance of Kanto. I'm sure I can stay at their house for a short time."

Mister Pokemon nodded, and for a brief moment, she managed to stand in place. Then, she returned to her pacing, her finger on her chin, her eyes glazed over in thought. "Oak, I need to ask: why the hell did you send Gold to Violet City? Why not let Elm choose someone?"

"Oh, he's not going to Violet City."

The pacing stopped. "What? But you literally told him to –"

"He's not going because once he hears of the attack on New Bark, he'll head back there."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"I got a good read on him. Impulsive, hot-headed. The usual stuff for boys his age. All you need is a little push…"

"Then why ask him to go if you know he'll disobey?"

"I'm planning ahead. Compliment him now, make him think he has my approval. Reap the rewards later." Oak tapped his temple. "He admires me; that much I could see, and it is something I can use. Always think three moves ahead, Mister P. You really should play more chess."

"That's my least favorite of the Old World games. I prefer checkers myself." Mister Pokemon shook her head. "Gods, all this plotting and manipulating… Sometimes you scare me, Oak. You really do."

Oak shrugged. "You don't get to where I am without knowing how to manipulate."

"What, in a one-room shack, in hiding, in a second-rate Johtoan city?"

"Very funny. But I've learned from my mistakes. Gold will succeed where Blue failed. I can feel it."

Mister Pokemon nodded absently. "I still don't see what you see in him," she muttered, and then continued pacing.

To Oak's eyes, the woman seemed to have her route perfectly planned. First, she would walk to the stovetop, then the door, then to the bedrooms, and then back to the table. Like clockwork.

"What's still on your mind, Sa – Mister P?" Oak said after watching her complete a third circuit.

Mister Pokemon ran her hands through her hair and leaned her head back. "Ugh! It's just – the way that meeting with that kid ended has got me all riled up! 'For Nihon!', he said. What the hell is that?"

"Well, before there was a Kanto or Johto or Sinnoh, the country of Japan used to rule over these islands before the Reckoning. Based on what I've read from historical texts, Nihon is the word for Japan in its traditional tongue." Oak leaned back in his chair. "As for why Gold said that in such a declarative way, I could not tell you."

Mister Pokemon waved her hand as if trying to push away a bad smell. "No, not that. I know what Nihon is. What I mean is – _why_ did he say it? I can only imagine he expected us to respond similarly."

"Well, I suppose that is something Elm would have influenced Gold to say, that's for sure…"

"Do you think we can trust him?"

Oak cast a sharp look at Mister Pokemon. "Gold? Yes, I'd say we can. I told you: teenage boys are quite malleable."

Mister Pokemon shook her head. "I wasn't talking about the kid."

**(o)**


End file.
